Mass Effect: Nova [In Character]

[Dervish]

Of all the Ward establishments with a shitty reputation, Chora’s Den was among the top. While it was nowhere near as dangerous as some back-alley pub on Omega, it wasn’t exactly where someone of higher-standing would find themselves. That is, unless they were there for work. The out of the way establishment provided a degree of autonomy and privacy, as well as music that didn’t make Tanya Carson want to ram a dancer’s head through the bar counter.

Nova had had a whirlwind of minor contracts after the Skyillian Blitz kicked off on Elysium, as well as becoming a somewhat important name for people who wanted to get something done for a fee. Not all of the work was glamorous, noble, or even moral, but it paid the bills and attracted high-level clients with big pocket books and big secrets. The team had decided reluctantly to recruit more members to the team, including a group they had run into by chance on Elysium. For whatever reason, they stayed and it was as if they had been there all along and not just for the six months since they barely made their way out of a fucking war zone.

Tanya reflected back to what lead up to her sitting alone at a secluded table waiting for the contact to show up. She wore a form-flattering black and blue trimmed knee-length dress with a single shoulder strap over her left shoulder with a blue rose fastened to it with a silver clip. She reluctantly agreed to some form of make up, which a cobalt blue lipstick was the concession along with some faint black eyeliner. Her stylized, long haired Mohawk and nearly knee length flat footed boots completed the ensemble, making her look more wild than the typical weekend evening attire found in the bars across the Citadel. Tanya rarely dressed up for any occasion, but when someone was waving a big enough pay cheque, she made an effort to look nice.

The engineer and Nova co-founder was in her late 20s, her body carrying a strong athletic build despite her decidedly self-destructive life-style choices. Faint scars lined her body here and there from years of combat and mechanical mishaps. Even technological prodigies such as herself slipped up from time to time. She had a rather attractive face, or so she’d been told and thought herself, although she took virtually no effort to upkeep her appearance other than her hair and personal hygiene. Her grey eyes scanned over at the dancers on the round podium behind the bar. At what point had your life sunk so low that you willingly put on an over-priced outfit worth 5 credits worth of fabric to catch the eye of every desperate man who walked in this place? The last time one of her team mates suggested she try it out, she broke her favorite drinking glass over his skull. The topic wasn’t brought up again.

The bar was referred to by most as a gentleman’s club, or as Tanya heard it, men with too many credits and no social grace. However, as far as locations on the Citadel went, it was idea for business transactions that would otherwise catch C-Sec’s eye and get the people dealing in a lot of shit. For the most part, she enjoyed the place and while it wasn’t her first choice in places to get wasted, mainly due to the desperate rich men ogling the dancers, it was a comfortable enough atmosphere where people kept to their own business generally, and the team had some pretty good times after a mission. Of all of Roland’s choices for watering holes, it was one of his better picks.

Something moved in the corner of Tanya’s eye and she turned to see a turian that wasn’t Tillus trying to catch her attention. “Hey babe, is this seat taken?” he asked all drunken charisma and charm. His voice was nice enough, but that’s about it. “Sorry, I only do krogan.” Tanya said deadpan. The turian’s expression almost made her crack into a mischievous grin. The bloke got up and left fast enough. Now, where the hell was the client?

She made a quick survey around the bar, and she noticed her team spread out. Each of them had a radio in their ear that was discretely hidden as to not draw suspicion. Whatever Tanya could hear, her team could too. “Still holding out for your beau on Illium?” Tillus’ voice said in her ear. Tanya had expected that and chuckled. “You know me too well, but no.” she said, eyeing her whiskey. It was a particularly favorite interest of the team to remind her of a shore leave some time ago on Illium where Tanya had gotten rather intoxicated and had saddled up to a krogan engineer who was working at the local transportation business. Fortunately for her, and not for the team’s mirth, she went home with Nova instead of the krogan. Nice man but the thought was too fucking weird. At least nobody could accuse her of being a xenophobe.

A man slid into the booth across from her. He was a middle aged human man with salt and pepper hair and a face that reminded her entirely too much of a secret agent from the entertainment vids. On his left lapel was a white rose fastened the same way as Tanya’s. “That bit about the krogan true?” he asked, smiling. She shook her head, grinning. “No, can’t say I’ve been that intimate with one before. It just keeps people out of my business. I told another man earlier than once you go hanar, you never go back.”

The man actually laughed and handed over a small chip that was designed to slide into most common models of data pads. “That’s the music album you requested as confirmation I am who I say I am.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been around the galaxy for quite a few years now, and I’ve never heard of elcor death metal. You have strange tastes.”

Tanya slipped the chip into her data pad and sure enough, Elcor Apocolypse: Migration to Hell popped up almost immediately. “Don’t knock it until you try it. Besides, it just goes to show how far human influence has spread. But music isn’t why we’re here.”

The man slid over a fresh glass of dark asari brandy over to Tanya. “The answer lies at the bottom of that glass.” The man replied. Tanya took the glass in both hands, had a sip and slid the chip stuck at the bottom of the glass into her fingers before setting the glass down. The drink wasn’t bad. She slid the chip into another slot under the table while keeping a hold of the glass and talking. “Interesting flavour. From Thessia?” Tanya asked.

The man nodded. “Only the finest.” He said with a suave smile. Tanya’s datapad beeped. “Pardon me a moment.” She said, taking the pad from her lap and scanning through the contents of the chip. Her eyes couldn’t help but widen a bit. That was quite the number, after all.

_ _ _

“Fist here.”

Fist was a stocky, strong man with a ragged looking scar across his face and a crew cut. He didn’t wander out into his establishment often, but when he did, people knew it was never for anything social. He was alone in his office, his sanctuary, and most of the time he would have taken a voice call on loud speaker, but this particular caller demanded confidentiality. Fist held the receiver up to his ear, an anarchic old thing that he felt demeaning to use in an office that was both sound-proofed and filled with state of the art signal scramblers. Someone could fire a gun in the room and nobody would be any the wiser. Even so, the caller wasn’t one anyone should take chances with when it came to confidentiality. The line only connected to the caller and had more security features than the rest of the citadel and was kept under lock and a keypad that only fist knew the codes for. A wrong number 3 times would activate the security turrets and kill the intruder. And the crime lord still felt nervous.

”There is a man in your establishment who possesses information that cannot be passed on. Obtain it if possible, and eliminate this man and any contacts he may have. My agent is forwarding the pertinent information to you now. Do not fail me, Fist. This will either be extremely profitable for you or it will be your ruin.” The line went dead.

That moment, his terminal bleeped a message outlining the description of the target. Fist didn’t know what the man did to piss off the Shadow Broker, but it wasn’t his place to question his boss’s motives. The man rubbed his temples with his forefingers and thumb, trying to will away a headache and he shot back the last of his beer. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He muttered, hitting his intercom that went to the ear pieces of the various men in his employ. “Listen up, I want a man dead with no questions asked, and we’re going to make it look like it was happenstance. Gary, Sam, here’s what I want you to do…”

_ _ _

“Seven and a half million?” Tanya said, her voice barely above a whisper. The client merely smiled. “Thought that would get your attention. Even split multiple ways among your people, it can go a long way. My benefactor is a generous man; he takes care of the people who help him.”

“So, where do we begin?” Tanya asked. Her attention was entirely on this man. He nursed his own drink with a delicate swig before turning the glass to his cupped hands on the table, like someone would hold a mug of coffee or tea to warm their hands.

“There is a location specified in the information, as is anything else you will need to know. I am afraid I cannot say more at this time, but I assume that we can be expecting you and your people soon?” He asked.

Tanya nodded. This job would turn out to be more profitable than enen the Alliance, which was never stingy with the pay. “Count on it.” She replied with a smile.

“Now I must beg your-“

“Hey! What are you doing, old man? She’s mine!” declared an indignant voice. It was the turian from before. The turian shoved the man hard back into his seat. The man’s eyes were cold as a stone. “Can I help you?” his voice was level, not shake in the slightest.

The turian ignored him and turned to Tanya. “You lied to me, you bitch. What, I’m not good enough for you? I’ll fix that, right now.” His voice sounded slightly intoxicated, but there was something about his eyes, an intense, cold focus…

Oh shit.

The turian pulled out a pistol, an older model M3, from inside of his blazer, a human piece of clothing that the turian had fitted to his frame and pointed the gun at the man’s chest. Tanya’s contact didn’t have time to react before the pistol barked twice and a crimson spray erupted from the man’s chest. Tanya was stunned. She’d seen many men killed, a lot by her own hand, but this was cold, deliberate, and entirely unexpected, she tried to move back in her seat as the turian trained his gun at her, his eyes dead and filled with purpose. They glared her as if to say nothing personal, just business.

Everything happened in slow motion, it seemed. She was focused on the barrels of the gun as they leveled with her chest, no need for a headshot on an unarmoured target, and she prepared for the gunshot. The next thing she knew, the turian was knocked over by a blur as the gun was knocked from his hand and discharged into the wall. A human man had tackled the turian and a second one was helping pin the turian down, both traded blows with the man and eventually subdued him, dragging him towards the office. Tanya had a terrible feeling about the situation and turned away for a second. “We need to get out. Now.” She said, keeping her voice from shaking. Most of the patrons were fleeing the bar so it wouldn’t be obvious which of the people fleeing were Nova’s. She joined the throng of people and noticed the krogan bouncer crossing the floor. Their eyes met, and what she saw wasn’t friendly.

She faced forward again, trying to pick up the pace. “I think the krogan’s after me. Can one of you guys deal with it?” She asked, now out of the club and determined to get somewhere more public. The datapad was clasped tightly in her hand. Whatever was on it was worth killing for, and she didn’t buy for a minute that that turian was drunkenly angry enough at the contact to kill him over a slight about a girl. Turians were notorious for their self-control, and the look in his eyes wasn’t the unfocused rage of a drunk. It was very sober and very terrifying. She’d seen those eyes before. In her line of work, there were enough professional killers to make one lose a lot of sleep. Something was wrong about this whole situation, even more so than a man getting shot out in the open like that.

Tanya heard something even more unsettling from somewhere in the crowd. “He was with a girl, you idiots! She has it, get her, will you?” unsettlingly, the voice sounded turian. The whole thing had to have been a set up. The engineer picked up her pace. “Nova, code brown. Help a girl out, will you? I have some adoring fans who I don’t think are interested in getting my contact information.” She joked, although her voice was strained. Code brown was a joke among the team, simply ‘the shit has hit the fan’. Without her armour and a gun, she felt rather naked with a bunch of thugs after her. She only hoped her teammates would be able to spot them out quickly enough.

[Tick]

“Crap.”
The quarian watched her new boss shoot for the quickest exit in the crowd with a hard, flat face, as the drunk was dragged out of the squealing crowd. Her previously smooth, easy voice suddenly snapped taut without a hint of humor, and Tzvi immediately dropped herself into the violent flood of people on the order. She felt especially self-conscious and restless, as she tried to push for the door with the same level of desperation as the citizens and spot other shooters , because of the attire she had picked for this trip. The flashy, royal blue hood about her head worked for popular quarian style and fit more in a casual occasion, but if anyone recognized her, it wouldn’t matter that colorful clothing was more typical. The blues and yellows piercingly glared along the bottom of her periphery like a flashlight. ’So stupid.’

Tanya was in a rather worrying, potentially fatal spot as she was quickly tracked by a krogan and others , who Tzvi managed to get a few quick glances at.
“Nova, code brown. Help a girl out, will you? I have some adoring fans who I don’t think are interested in getting my contact information.”
Tzvi kept her response short and as quiet as she thought she could get away with, tilting her head down so that the hood might take the edge off of the surrounding, panicked drone, “Krogan already sees you, I’ll try to throw the others off; see if I can help.”

Glancing to see if any threat was looking her way, she kept her omni-tool low and the motions of her fingers small as she tried to spot and focus on the threats nearby. This would have to be quick. She broke into their omni-tools through the network, with a few pre-made programs good enough to generally do the trick. With that, the engineer hit the general group with the frustrated turian with a few strings of overriding commands that quietly confused the sensors so that they, while remaining online, gave false leading data. It looked similar enough to seem real, stating the basic, obvious facts – such as details suggesting there was a bunch of people running out – and was different enough to prod them in the wrong direction, partially by stating incorrectly how many people were going which way, and hopefully look for the wrong person or people.

Right as she was about to begin work with the weaponry on their omni-tools, Tzvi felt her heart jump at the sight of the hulking, muscled krogan becoming uncomfortably close. With maybe a bit more effort than she liked, she didn’t dart her glowing eyes and jerk her head to her omni-tool in some desperate attempt to find a quick fix. She rushed more at the pace of the crowd and glided to the edge where people would better block her from his notice. Forcing the slightly shaken hands to stay quick and nimble, she tilted her head just enough to scan for another opening, and took the first option: the music.
It was hardly protected, and so Tzvi sent the most basic, quick coding she had to route an excess of electricity to the stereo, hoping the extra noise and light of its destruction, from nowhere, would make them pause.

Avoiding a glance behind to check on how the krogan was progressing, and feeling the urge to grab her pistol's handle, she muttered, “Please, someone help with the big guy? Feel like he’s about to breathe on my neck and snap it.”

[Voltin]

Roland had been sitting in his seat, enjoying the... view as much as he could with the rather strong krogan absinth sitting in front of him. Asari, weren't his thing, despite Tanya's insistence that he went for anything with breasts and could couple a few coherent words together. His "flings" were always both way, both agreeing to a one-night stand and promises of nothing more. The absinthe on the other hand, was a rather stupid idea. It was served in half a shot glass, and even then it was strongly recommended to only take sips, and not a giant gulp. The burn, the burn was stimulating.

He was admittedly only half there for the conversation that took place between Tanya and their contact. He remembered a quip from Tillus, something about elcor death metal, and a rather large number, the exact digits he couldn't wrap around his head.

Then it went off. The gunshot had a rather sobering effect on Roland's nerves. He stood up rather rapidly, taking a survey as to where everyone was. Such a task was ultimately futile as the expected civilian reaction, a stampede of people scared for their own lives and not worrying about their fellow patrons, occurred. The comm in his ear went haywire, Tanya popping a wise crack while simultaneously asking for help. Time to save the day! Roland thought as he began to make his own way toward the exit, stumbling as he took his first few steps.

A turian in front of him took his notice. No panic in the way he moved. He was a hunter looking for his prey. Roland slipped his pistol out from under his casual jacket, it was the only weapon he had. His goal was to blend in after all, what idiot comes in to a club owned by a well known agent of the Shadow Broker, suited in full armor, packed to the brim with weaponry after all. He slipped up behind the sentinel, positioning his pistol at the man's spine. Wait, is this his spine? Damnit, I studdied this for Pete's sake! After his moment of internal struggle, Roland pulled the trigger, letting loose a muffled shot as he caught the now collapsing body. "Sorry friend, but you chose the wrong target and slash or the wrong employer, your choice really," he whispered all this to the turian as he slowly set the fainting man down on the floor as best he could in the mass of people.

"Please, someone help with the big guy? Feel like he’s about to breathe on my neck and snap it.''

He spotted the krogan, or at least the burly human Tzvi had been referring to. His current artillery was no where near enough to take down such a big guy. He to holding the guy down, with his mind of course; after all, even the most brutish of krogan have a hard time breaking down even the weakest of biotic fields. "Hey Ken, I've got your big guy here all hunkered down, if your going to bolt, do it now. You've got ten seconds." Roland said as quietly as he could with the mass of terrified people over the comm, starting to wince in pain as a massive headache took over. He was already regretting his absinthe, damn krogans. "Oh, and the damsel owes her valiant savior a kiss of gratitude by the way, it's this rule," he added quickly before attempting to find the other lady needing a hero.

He spotted her, she was rather easy to find in a crowd. Tanya in formal wear tended to stick out to a person. "Well, don't you look absolutely smashing this evening Tanya my dear," Roland quipped, using his favorite accent, as he waltzed up behind her. "So I take it the meeting with your absolutely gorgeous beau didn't go exactly as planned?" He continued, as he put his arm around her waist, trying to hurry her through the crowd. Roland at least had an inconspicuous shield generator with him, it appeared that Tanya didn't even have that, so at least he could act as her shield if their pursuers ever caught up. Speak of the devil! A turian, backed by two krogans were hot on their tail, but it seems as if they weren't specifically pursuing the two of them. "Well, the two of us need even more help, imagine the odds." he said through the comm channel. "Oh, and if you are packing more than a pistol that would be great!"

[Mosis Tosis]

Kosso had a drink, but he wasn't enjoying it. It was just a glass of the cheapest booze the bar had to offer, some sort of earth-based crap that swirled unappealingly in his cup. Other than a few obligatory sips now and then, he did his best to ignore it. It was all a show, anyway, a performance put on for anyone that might have been watching. He leaned back in his chair, looking perfectly relaxed as he nursed his drink and watched the Asari dancer in front of him. To everyone else, he was just another unremarkable patron to this seedy little club.

But Kosso was paying attention. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes shifted rapidly, taking in everything. He picked out the other members of Nova, each doing their best to look inconspicuous, some doing better than others. Roland's choice of drink, for example, was probably attracting more attention than it was worth. Kosso considered making a snide comment about it over the comm, but decided instead to stay focused on the task at hand.

There was Tanya, at a table with their potential client. She looks good, Kosso thought approvingly, and she's doing a great job. Indeed, through his comm he could hear the two make small talk with ease while exchanging the necessary information. It was all going smoothly. But Kosso couldn't shake the anxious feeling that was working its way up his spine. Maybe it was just because he was usually the one who was in Tanya's position right now, but his gut told him that something bad was coming.

He glanced over at the other side of the bar, his shades concealing his wandering eyes. The Krogan bouncer, standing in the corner and looking bored, wasn't doing much to assuage his anxiety. He'd heard rumors that the owner of Chora's Den was in deep with the Shadow Broker. If the proprietor could afford Krogan security...well, maybe there was some truth to those rumors. Either way, the whole situation made him feel uneasy.

“Seven and a half million?” Kosso's eyes snapped back to Tanya as her crackled over the comm. That much cash? That can't be right. Kosso wasn't so much excited about the number as he was simply impressed. He'd been wealthy once before, and now money didn't hold his attention like it used to. But seven and a half million? This wasn't just some piss-job contract. This was something big.

Everything fell apart in just a few seconds. A drunk Turian approached Tanya's table, shouting something and pulling a gun. Kosso, already tense, was out of his seat in a flash. There was the all-too familiar sound of gunfire, and the client suddenly went limp in his chair, a spray of blood staining his shirt. The Turian turned his pistol on Tanya, and even from across the room Kosso could see the cold precision in his eyes. Before he could pull the trigger, however, he was tackled to the ground and dragged away, towards the back of the bar. That was good timing. Too good. It was all starting to become clear now.

"In case anyone was wondering, I'm pretty sure we just got set up." Kosso said into his comm, his voice flat. The patrons were all flooding towards the exits, forming a panicked mob in record time. From a distance, Kosso watched as Tanya moved into the relative safety of the crowd. He waited a few seconds and moved after her. The Drell passed through the throng of people like a fish through water. Among the frantic throes of flailing limbs and stampeding strangers, he blended in effortlessly, just another face in the crowd.

He caught up to Tanya after a minute. Roland had found her as well, and he kept her close to his side, within the protective bubble of his kinetic barrier. Smart move. Though Roland is probably just using it as an excuse to get that much closer to a member of the opposite sex. As he neared them, Kosso felt his instincts kick into overdrive. This was the exact situation he'd been trained for ever since he was child. An unarmored, unarmed client that he had to protect from forces both unknown and unseen. He felt himself lapse back into that familiar pattern of movement, feeling his training guide him.

So when a human stepped from the crowd, brandishing a pistol at his two teammates, he stepped forward without hesitation. One hand grabbed the barrel of the man's gun; the other stuck at his elbow, causing his arm to bend suddenly and unnaturally and the man's eyes to widen in pain. With one swift movement, Kosso brought his own elbow into the bridge of the human's nose, at the same time sweeping forward at his knee with one leg. The man fell, bleeding from the nose, his eyes still reflecting surprise before his head hit the floor and he went limp. On his way down, he was kind enough to relinquish his grip on his pistol, allowing Kosso to pull it from his hand.

Nonchalantly, Kosso turned to his teammates, tossing his newly-acquired weapon to Tanya. "Consider it a gift." The crowd was beginning to notice the unconscious man on the floor, and was starting to move away from them. They didn't have much time. "A real gentleman always offers the lady a weapon." He said, still nonchalant as he reached around to secure his own pistol, safely tucked at the small of his back and hidden beneath his clothes. He smiled sarcastically at Roland. "But I guess chivalry is dead."

The gap between the rest of the crowd and them was widening quickly. "Hopefully, the rest of our wonderful crew mates will get off their asses and actually help us out here. Until then, just keep moving." He stepped away, adjusting his glasses. "Try to stay with the crowd. I'm right behind you."

He stepped into the mass of people, immediately melting away from view. With one eye on Tanya and Roland and the other open for any more emerging threats, Kosso shadowed his teammates from a distance, his hand ever itching towards his weapon.

[ATPsynthase]

Chora's Den was a shit-hole. Tillus had insisted on this fact when Nova was discussing accepting this contract, but everyone was all, "You say every place is a shit-hole! Stop being such a bitch!" In Tillus's mind, every bar on the Citadel was a shit-hole. Right now he was sitting at a bar a little ways across the room from where Tanya, dressed in a little number that wasn't fooling anyone, was discussing matters with their new employer-to-be, grumbling about how shitty the drink he was drinking was. It had the kick of a glass of dirty water and the taste of his worst enemy: Pyjak Piss. He was not having it.

The only good things he'd heard so far was Tanya's Freudian slip of her love of krogan meat (which he jumped on) and the mention of a commission of fucking seven and a half million creds. Yeah, it was suspicious as hell, but Tillus couldn't argue with seven point five million. Anyone who argued with that had something wrong with them.

Regardless, as in most shit-holes, shit eventually hit the fan. A bullet in the client's chest from some drunk asshole and the crowd exploded into a panic. Tillus wasn't happy. Any situation where one of his comrades was staring down the barrel of a pistol wearing only a dress was a shitty situation. Incidentally, any mission where he had to go unarmed (as far as he was concerned) was a shitty one. He sat himself up from his bar stool slowly and calmly, putting out a hand to steady himself. He was slightly tipsy, but that was nothing a good fight couldn't fix.

"Alright, newbies, now's the time to show us you're keepers!" he said into the commlink. "Just don't fuck it up. I believe in you!" he said with fake enthusiasm. "Or something."

He scanned the situation. Through the crowd he spotted Tanya making her leave. Somehow she had gotten away. He also spotted Kosso covering her, along with Roland, whose hand was strangely not on her ass.

A few weeks ago the five Nova members had gotten completely wasted (as they normally do) before meeting the new members and having things change completely. Maybe Roland had forgotten who exactly he was touching at the time, but one thing led to another, and his black eye is still slightly visible if you get a close look at his face. Tanya, on the other hand, got an excuse to not deal with him for a week. Tillus considered her lucky. Roland also got a reputation among the newer crew members for being somewhat of a womanizer. That could not be more inaccurate, nor could it be more hilarious. Obviously, it stuck.

He looked the other direction, and saw one of the recruits furiously tapping into her omni-tool. Tsvi, or Vivi, as Tillus called her due to his laziness when it came to correctly pronouncing foreign names, was doing pretty well with the hacking (as evidenced by the increasing amount of chaos in the club around him), but not a great job of paying attention to her immediate surroundings. Roland had put an approaching krogan into stasis, but another one was fast approaching from behind her.

He shook the slight stupor out of his mind and took off at a run towards the brute. Fortunately, the krogan was subject to his species's notorious neglect to details, and didn't even see him coming, being too focused on his target. Tillus deftly hit the ground into a slide tackle, feeling his amp prickle into action as he used a mass effect field to keep himself slightly above the ground. The loss of friction let him hit the krogan's ankles with his armored boots hard enough to topple him.

"Now's the fun part," Tillus said, as he rolled over from the position he stopped in. Facing the falling krogan while laying on the ground, he lifted him into the air with a biotic pull, simultaneously rising to his feet. Once he was standing again, he brought the krogan up, then slammed him down onto the other krogan, who was still frozen in stasis. There was the crack of breaking bone as his enemy's face met the rock-hard body of its helpless ally, followed by the boom of a biotic explosion as Roland's stasis field and Tillus's kinetic field clashed. Chairs and drinks went flying in random directions along with the bodies of the two krogans.

"Damn," Tillus said, laughing and gasping for breath. "That was fun!" He turned to Tsvi, who just so happened to be the least combat-experienced newbie and also the most impressionable (as far as he knew).

"Not bad, eh?" He grinned at her, the best grin a turian could muster. "Alright, enough gawking, let's get the fuck out of here." He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the exit. "I got Vivi," he said into the commlink with his other hand. He scoped out the crowd outside the bar, which was starting to thin out as people ran in different directions. At this rate, he'd be able to find Tanya, Kosso, and Roland... which was actually a bad thing. If he could spot them, then so could their enemies.

"The crowd's thinning, why don't we just rendez-vous somewhere? I'm leaving this to you, Tanya," he said condescendingly. "This party was your idea, and if we keep on our toes, maybe it won't have to get as fun as Ilium."

[TheMidnighter]

Ahren Calibos, one of Novas newest hires, wasn't actually in Choras Den when things went south. But being one the new hires, he wasn't exactly given the best jobs just yet, or trusted too fully. His job was best summarized as the get-away driver. Which basically meant keeping the engine running and be ready for when things came to a close. He didn't mind it, really. Turian psychology had a big emphasis on sacrificing personal want and following orders, doing what's best for the whole.

Still. If he wanted to be staked outside a skeevy dive bar on the Citadel drinking the cheapest analogue to coffee Turian biology can tolerate, he'd have joined C-Sec.

The exit to Choras Den led out onto a walkway above one of the Citadel's busier highways, so he couldn't wait just outside - saying nothing of how suspect that would look, and how likely he was to get propositioned. He had an earpiece in and was listening to things that were going down, but he lacked the technical expertise to hack into the Dens security feeds and see for himself. The first sign of trouble he got was over that headset, when Tanya's conversation was cut short by gunfire. A code brown was declared. This was apparently a dirty joke to a human, but the Turian didn't quite get it.

"Just get out of there. I'm coming round for dust-off." He broke off from his holding pattern and dragged the aircraft in as narrow a turning circle as it could pull without splitting in half before rocketing the wrong way down the highway towards Choras Den. And no, even he wasn't quite sure why he thought this was a good idea, but he was pretty sure it was symbolic of something. "I'll be waiting on the walkway outside the club. Remember the car's a rental. No bullet holes."

The vehicle, rented from a Citadel service, was a long red spike that tore through the air at some pretty respectable speeds, large enough to accommodate every member of the team. The tunnel that Ahren was screaming down, a little more literally than he'd like, was in the middle of rush hour traffic. Most of these were fairly easy to avoid because of the tendency for these craft to be VI piloted - easily predicted paths. But Ahren and a few other psychopaths were driving their own vehicles, which tended to be going at higher speeds and with wilder paths. And in a tight tunnel, Ahren really didn't have a lot of space to make mistakes. As he pulled the wheel right to blaze past an incoming asari on a flying moped, he had to rapidly jerk it left again so as not to smear himself across the Citadel walls.

Within a few more moments that would have turned his hair white, if Turians had hair, Ahren pulled the nose of the aircraft up to rise out of the stream of traffic and draw level with the walkway outside of Choras Den. He popped open one of the side doors and drew his pistol, scanning the crowds for the other Nova mercs, or any hostiles. "I'm outside."

[Dervish]

Tanya didn’t see what Savvy got up to as she was whisked away, but judging from the comms chatter she’d managed to cause quite the distraction that Nova reacted to expertly. The crowd around her was an excited barrier between her and her attackers, and she wasn’t exactly sure what the team was doing. She felt very vulnerable, but she knew if she kept moving, she’d have a better chance. Why the hell don’t dresses come with built in holsters? I feel naked. She thought, avoiding a human man and woman as they brushed by in front of her, trying to escape the chaos. Roland’s voice filled the radio; he’d put the krogan who was bearing down on Tzvi in stasis, she assumed. Roland was a talented biotic, and that was his go-to technique for non-lethally neutralizing threats.


Suddenly, a ridiculous accent that Roland was fond of piped up behind her. "Well, don't you look absolutely smashing this evening Tanya my dear.” The sentinel must have been hurrying, because the next thing Tanya knew she had an arm wrapped around her waist. She nearly yelped in surprise until she realized it was Roland. It would be easy to mistake this as an overly affectionate gesture, but they’d worked together long enough to wordlessly know that he was putting himself in harms way to keep her safe. He had a gun and a shield generator, after all. Still, the gesture wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “So I take it the meeting with your absolutely gorgeous beau didn't go exactly as planned?" he asked, seemingly amused. Tanya snorted, eyes skirting the crowd for anything suspicious. “No, I never have luck with the old guys. They always die before they write me into their will.” She said dryly. “Roland, whatever that guy had just stirred up a hornet’s next. We need to get our asses out of here, because I’m not eager to get shot for a data chip.”

The pair noticed a turian and two krogan homing on them. That was not a promising sight. Roland discretely called it out on the radio and requested help. Hopefully the team was on their A-game today, because if those three caught up a bullet to the skull would be the least of their worries. The momentary distraction was enough for a man to step out of the crown in front of them with the same cold, professional eyes as the turian from earlier. A handgun was pointed right at them.

What happened next was a blur. A hand shot out and grabbed the gun, forcing it in a safe direction and in a flurry of practiced martial arts, the man was left in a bloody clump on the ground. "Consider it a gift. A real gentleman always offers the lady a weapon." Kosso offered the man’s handgun to Tanya, who took it casually and did a quick visual inspection. It was a well-maintained Kassa Fabrication Razer, not a cheap gun by any means. Tanya offered the drell a smile. This damsel in distress thing made for a good spectacle. “Take notes Roland, that’s now you impress a girl.” The drell turned to Roland with smirk. "But I guess chivalry is dead."

Tanya sighed, shaking her head as she wrapped her arm and leaned into Roland’s chest, concealing the pistol between their bodies. “Are you two fucking serious? We’re getting shot at and you’re both laying on the moves on me. See if I don’t make your showers run nothing but cold water for a week.” She looked where Kosso turned to. The drell walked away, commenting on the team’s lack of presence. As he slipped back into the crowd, he gave a quiet order. "Try to stay with the crowd. I'm right behind you." Sound advice, given the circumstances.

"The crowd's thinning, why don't we just rendez-vous somewhere? I'm leaving this to you, Tanya," Tillus' snarky voice rang in Tanya's ear. "This party was your idea, and if we keep on our toes, maybe it won't have to get as fun as Ilium."

"We need to get somewhere more public and well away from the Den. We find C-Sec, and we have a bit of a breather... we can figure out how to get back to the ship from there. What's your-" Tanya was cut off by another voice over the radio.

Ahren’s voice barked over the radio.
"Just get out of there. I'm coming round for dust-off." he said, in that calm disciplined way turians are when the world falls apart around them. It was quite remarkable to see it in action. Tanya could hear the sounds of the skycar’s engine protesting the turian’s driving. "I'll be waiting on the walkway outside the club. Remember the car's a rental. No bullet holes."

Tanya flicked on her radio again. “Copy that. I’ll try not to key it when I get inside. Dibs on not sitting on somebody’s lap. Nova, we got the prize, now bugger out! Get to the end of the walkway.” She said, walking quickly with Roland to the pick-up point. They managed to get another 15 feet before being accosted by two human men, both armed. It was reflex at this point, Tanya’s arm shot out from Roland’s chest and the pistol barked twice, striking both men in the knees. At this range, even a half-decent shield wouldn’t stop a heavy pistol round. Both men screamed out in pain and collapsed to the floor. Tanya booted one in the head as she walked by; that shut him up. Roland kicked the other’s pistol away from his hand; there wasn’t time to do a proper job on that one. They could always hack into C-Sec’s files after and see if they couldn’t ID the guys, anyways.

The skycar veered up dangerously fast to the platform and hovered right over the railing. "I'm outside." Ahren said, apparently bored judging from his tone. It looked like he may have practiced that one too many times.

"Alright boys and girls, limo's here. Last one in pays the cabbie." Tanya taunted over the radio, and her and Roland made a dash for the skycar, the door opening as they approached. Both clambered in quickly, taking seats nearest to the door and grabbing a pair of M-15 Vindicator rifles from racks hidden behind the seats. Tanya set her data pad the "liberated" Razer pistol on the seat next to her. Both humans aimed out the door. "Anytime now would be fucking fantasc, Nova."

[VinnyB]

Kratos was a short sprint away from Chora's den when the code-brown was declared. The signal that 'everything had gone to shit' as Tanya had previously explained to him aboard the Tyrus. Like thunderless lightning, Kratos ducked and weaved his way through the scores of aliens exiting the 'gentleman's' club.

The first thing the Drell noticed upon arriving at the scene of the combat. Was a pair of Humans moving to intercept Nova as they entered the getaway vehicle. Whom Kratos, just so happened to be approaching from behind. With incredible momentum behind him, Kratos jumped into the air and expertly positioned his muscular, yet slender legs upon each side of the first human's neck.

Kratos proceeded to squeeze his legs together, interlocking his feet with each other as he twisted his upper body whilst still in mid-air. The horrific sound of breaking bones became audible as the assassin performed his attack, the attack forcing both Drell and Human to the ground. The human's neck snapped clean in half. Severing his spine from his skull.

But Kratos' assault was not delayed by the complex attack, as when he hit the alloy flooring of the citadel he rolled over his should and twisted to face his next opponent. The human without a pause brought his arm upwards from the centre of his body towards Kratos' jaw, aiming to knock the Drell onto the floor with a single, powerful uppercut.

However he leaned backwards and narrowly avoided the punch, countering by stepping forward and jumping. Grabbing the back of the human's head with each hand and viciously slamming both of his knees into the bridge of his nose. Yet another gut-wrenching crunch resonated through Kratos' eardrums as the two plummetted to the ground with his knees riding the human's chest. And the Drell still clutching onto his head.

As the now incapacitated human lay flat on his back, with Kratos in full mount atop him. The dark skinned reptile pulled back his right arm, triggering his Omni-blade as his fist descended towards the throat of his foe. As soon as the holographic blade punctured flesh, Kratos looked up to the position of the skycar. Which was his evac.

Without waiting a second, the Drell leapt to his feet and began a sprint towards Tanya and Roland. Kratos was the first in behind the two humans and so he activated his Omni-tool, which he would use to fire barrages of tech powers at any approaching hostiles hat would threaten Nova.

"Sorry I'm late. I had a little.....business to tend to." He explained, his deep and croaking voice sounding vocoded to a human ear.

[Tick]

"Hey Ken, I've got your big guy here all hunkered down, if your going to bolt, do it now. You've got ten seconds."

“Ken??” she muttered to herself, feeling her brows set against her eyes in confusion, but at the sight of the krogan smacking the ground by a glowing shroud of blue she threw away the thought and took the chance to zip to the door, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. This crowd was getting rather saturated by people who wanted the Nova team eliminated.

"Oh, and the damsel owes her valiant savior a kiss of gratitude by the way, it's this rule."
Tzvi wasn't exactly sure what was most surprising and ridiculous part about that comment. There was a snort, as she scoffed, “If you wanted me dead, you should’ve just let the krogan spot me." She felt a finger tap the glass of her helmet, before remembering this was on a comm channel, and the dull, hollow thumps and clanks probably weren't even loud enough to be heard. "That's ahh - "debt" - I'll just have to owe you for the rest of my life.”

Flying from the quaking floors to the open outside halls, the music dead upon the speakers exploding and the voice of the patrons thinning as they desperately and sporadically fanned out from the exit. It felt like being dragged out from the safety and shadows of the forest into an unbroken, flat field. It had been a long while since Tzvi felt this much like exposed prey - she wasn't supposed to be scurrying around on the floor, she was supposed to be hiding in some nook in the corner, shepherding someone just the right way to get them killed.
Upon the request for help, she kept herself moving while checking behind herself, "I - uh - did my job, a group of them will be a bit confused until they figure out what's going on - hope it helps. We either need to leave, or deal with them, fast. The crowd's getting spread out."

Just as she started trying to veer away from sight and work on declawing the opposing side, a prudent, quick scan caught an odd look from another krogan going the same direction. Tzvi felt a pained, strained groan slip through as she picked up the pace and did her best to target the man without giving herself away, but the quarian quickly realized that wouldn't matter. The program wasn't hacking into the omni-tool quick enough to damage and stun him, and the krogan was already starting to barrel toward her, ready to smash her against the metal ground and crack her skull. 'No, no, no,' her black gloved fingers snapped to clutch the hidden handle of her pistol under her blue cloth, her arm aiming for a small, round eye.

BAM!

"What--!?" she almost choked on her own spit at the premature, exaggerated fall and without so much as the cold snap of the metal piece rocketing through the gun's mouth or a spot of blood or gore trailing behind the attaker's drop. Tzvi would have checked the damage if a turian lit by blue hadn't flashed into sight.

"Now's the fun part." Tillus rose the large, stunned figure to float just above the ground, right before blasting him against the previous one in a sharp, sweeping throw with a burst of energy. It would have been enough to make the guy bounce off the other, if not for the mass effect fields mercilessly pushing them down. The vaguely familiar hard, short series of the crack of bones and tear of muscle finally giving way almost made Tzvi wince, jaw hanging at the sudden entrance and abrupt action. Not more than five seconds ago, she was expecting her brain to be bleeding through and pooling into her helmet.

"Damn," Tillus said, laughing and gasping for breath. "That was fun!"

Tzvi found herself smiling at that, before noticing her lowered pistol was still in view and hurriedly slipping it away, one palm against the back of her handle as it clicked in place - something she should have been doing earlier.
"Nice save," she breathed, voice flush with elation and gratitude, and the strangest hint of humor. Tzvi's three fingers rubbed her neck, she felt the sore bottom of her throat ease and her heart slow from its previous gasping as the immediate alarm and fear of death passed. Her head still felt light. It wasn't common to have such a close call, and Tzvi seemed to hesitate at the thought.

"Not bad, eh?" He gave a big grin, "Alright, enough gawking, let's get the fuck out of here." "Good idea-" her voice had shrunk and its enthusiasm now ebbed away, and it was brushed away completely when Tillus just...grabbed her free hand and started dragging her along.
"I got Vivi."
Vivi?

"The crowd's thinning, why don't we just rendez-vous somewhere? I'm leaving this to you, Tanya," he said condescendingly. "This party was your idea, and if we keep on our toes, maybe it won't have to get as fun as Ilium."

Tzvi caught the three as well as Tillus did, and noticed a human on the floor, adding to the count of two other krogan. This was garnering a lot of unwanted attention. "I'm gonna need to hack - I can keep up," she gave a slight tug of the hand Tillus held as a sort of notice, before slowly slipping it away. After a pause, looking up from the glowing computer, she added more warmly, "Thanks for helping with the merc."

She started rushing through as she heard the conversation continue. Paying enough attention to stay with Tillus as they neared the others and catch that Ahren was bringing the shuttle, she went back to the omni-tools to set up their basic weaponry for backfire and found one gun with a VI. With a grin that was too excited and mischievous to be ethical, Tzvi hacked it to backfire. That guy wasn't about to be very productive. In any case, the team wouldn't have to worry as much about getting wounds when making their way or waiting for their teammate.


Speaking of, 'Was that Ahren's voice?'
"Alright boys and girls, limo's here. Last one in pays the cabbie," Tanya and Roland got onto the vehicle, with that.

"Good to see you here, Ahren," Tzvi greeted, getting into the ticket out of the death trap. Hanging farther back, and watching the door for the others, she curiously asked, "Were you yelling earlier?"

[Captain Jenno]

Meanwhile, on a debatably more important mission...

Steveo always knew this day would come. From the day his old man smiled down at him, mug in hand, he'd been preparing for this.
This day. This minute. This moment.
No amount of years in the Salarian Special Tasks Group could have tailored him for this. No amount of gun fire could have desensitized him from the danger... and no amount of silence, could make him forget about the enemy just in the next room.
This was it. He couldn't hide in the med bay anymore, he couldn't.
Destiny... destiny waited for no Salarian.

Pushing himself against the wall that divided the med bay and mess hall for cover, Steveo hesitantly glanced around the door frame, before quickly jerking his head back to safety.
The place was clear. Clear for everything except it. His mortal enemy, and the one thing that stood between him, and being truly alive.
And even now, it was devising its own battle plan, its own attack formation. Just boiling with anticipation and steaming with primal aggression.
He could waste no more time. It was now or never.
Now he struck.

Like his life depended on it, he leaped from the doorway, rolling onto his shoulder, and into a ball, before bringing himself to an abrupt stop beneath a table.
He glanced around warily. No activity... no attack, yet.
Grunting, he checked his holster, where his trusty Scorpion Pistol lay.
If he went down, he'd go down fighting.
But now was not the time to plan to fight. Now was the time for action.
Steeling his nerves, Steveo rolled out from beneath the table, and got onto his feet, before spinning around and throwing open the nearest cupboard.

Utilizing his biotic pull, he summoned a mug to his hand, before throwing the cupboards closed again, and spinning on the ball of his foot.
He slammed his mug down onto the table, and drew his Scorpion, turning on the spot with instinctual (and often life saving) paranoia, and scanning the room around him.
No movement yet...
Although, he had spotted his enemy in the corner.
All metallic and shimmering, like a ship out of harbor. He had half a mind to shoot it right there and then...
But he knew better than that. Always let them shoot first, that was rule 101 of STG Sabotage. Never make them the victim, never.

He holstered his Scorpion with narrowed eyes, and growled in their direction, before turning his back to them and getting a spoon from a drawer.
He moved swiftly, like any good trigger happy Salarian would, robbing two of the pristine white clay jars on the counter behind him of their tops, and digging his spoon into the first.
And once within it, he dug for his treasure. His prize.
It took only a few moments before he withdrew his spoon, now bathed in the soft brown, beautiful granules he had come to worship during his mornings.

He quickly turned, drawing his Scorpion as he did so, and focusing it on his metallic rival, as he dumped his coffee into his mug.
He could almost smell his sweet nectar already. But more needed to be done.
Steveo begrudgingly turned his back on his foe, although he moved his Scorpion beneath his other arm, so it remained trained on his location at all times.
Quickly, he buried his spoon into the second jar, and moved to withdraw sugar, when suddenly...

Click.
Steveo hit the deck as quick as physically possible, his spoon actually suspended in the air for a few seconds, before falling into the jar.
He held his eyes closed for a few moments, before sighing with relief, and opening them.
Steveo sat up, and felt his chest. No bullet wounds... no damage to anything but his pride.
Looking up at what had made the click, all Steveo saw was the metallic gleam of the electric kettle, almost like it was sneering at him.
It was with a heavy heart that he got to his feet.
He had won. The kettle had beat him once again, boiling before he could prepare his drink.
Steveo could almost hear his old STG squadron, laughing.

He continued to prepare his coffee, adding two sugars and a milk, before rolling his eyes and picking up the steaming hot body of his eternal nemesis.
His morning ritual was ruined. Or was it evening?
Bah, it was morning somewhere. He began pouring.
Once finished, he picked up his coffee with a sad glint in his eye, and drank slowly, before sighing. It tasted bitter. Bitter like defeat.
"I'll get you next time," he growled, in that gravelly, and yet somehow soothing voice of his, "Mark my words. You do not want to make an enemy of Steveo Viktoran."