Name
System 42009874563001

Call Sign
Phalanx

Race
Geth

Age
1895 CE The Geth War (basically old)

Gender
Synthetic Life form. Considers itself Female.

Creed
Silently in, Victorious out

Official Personal Description

The synthetic life form stands a total of six feet and eight inches. The metal coloring being a dark blue with black interior. A silver star sticker is placed on its forehead above the bright glowing blue glass eye. Has a silver keychain with a diamond locket attached to the hilt of its sniper rifle.

Phalanx is somewhat odd compared to its fellow synthetic life forms. Since the beginning, there had always been that hint of humanity that only increased when the Geth Hero Legion sacrificed himself to give them their own will. Curious and resourceful, Phalanx can always be seen studying on organics and asking frequent questions. Clever and resourceful, it swiftly calculates situations and doesn't hesitate to speak its suggestions or even strangely its opinions. It does seem to have a kind approach and seems to always pick saving innocent lives, even going for the reckless approach in endangering its own life. Phalanx has a sense of justice, believing there is always good in each life form, be it organic or synthetic. It always tries to not be judgmental and treat everyone equally. But will not hesitate to punish those who it deems needs it. Often, Phalanx is torn between what is logical and what is the right thing to do.

Armor
Slightly extra metal coating to protect from hazard atmosphere conditions.

Weapons
Geth Pulse Sniper Rifle X
Geth Pulse Shotgun X
Omni-Tool

Speciality
Infiltrator

Powers
Incinerate
AI Hacking
Disrupter Ammo
Cyro Ammo
Tactical Cloak
Electronics
Operative

Homeworld
Rannoch

History
Phalanx was one of the many Geth's to survive The Geth War. Much like Legion, it was a special class to be made for adventuring and interacting with life forms, without the knowledge of the Creators. Yet after the war, it remained on the world Rannoch to simply archive messages from Legion. Organic life had always fascinated the synthetic being, despite how the Creators had tried to destroy them. There were those who died protecting them, and this confused Phalanx. There were those who cared and those who feared. Why? Did they not form the same consensus as the Geth did? Their different views had caused one another's death and such a thing seemed illogical. Phalanx found itself simply grow more curious with these actions, and spent many years studying the Creator's books on the home planet. Studying all the knowledge it could muster and didn't know and sharing such knowledge with its fellow comrades.

Then the Old Machines came, making promises to the Geth that they would be free to do what the wish and come out from hiding. Most did not welcome such a thing, not wishing for war. Yet others did... Which was also surprising to Phalanx. Being one of the many to refuse the offer, Phalanx remained and watched as the comrade, later named Legion, was sent on the mission to investigate the organics outside the Veil. Phalanx found itself eagerly awaiting the information from Legion, especially when he met Commander Shepard.

Reading over the information and watching video archives, Phalanx only grew more curious of organics. Humans were known for their emotional state and often confusing other races. Shepard would give criminals chances when they did not deserve it, give up chasing a criminal to save innocent lives... That in later years the kind favors were returned. It was a mystery... Illogical.. Yet to interesting and inspiring.

When Shepard and the Creators came to Rannoch, Phalanx was the first to eagerly greet them, despite the tension between the races. Despite wishing to join in the Reaper War and assist the great hero, Phalanx remained on Rannoch to assist the Creators in making the planet their home once more. Even using its own conscious to assist volunteer Creators to adjust their frail bodies to the Rannoch air.

After the war was done, the Geth were forced to shut off, their functions failing. Despite this, the Quarians worked to fix their once enemy. In order to repay them for giving their home back. It took many years, but eventually the Geth were operational and Phalanx woke up from its long slumber. Being one who managed to service the Old Machines destruction. Phalanx requested to be assigned to off planet missions. Getting permission from the new Geth Councilor, Phalanx was assigned on solo missions to distinguish criminals as well as interact with friendly organics. Phalanx was a obvious choice, showing a friendly approach to other races.

About a century later, Phalanx was assigned to a special mission by the Geth Councilor. Phalanx was to protect a wealthy human family, in order to increase diplomatic relations between the two races. In return, Geth would offer technology while humans offered their culture history. Agreeing, Phalanx stayed at the families wealthy home and guarding their lives. The father and mother were always out at work, they had three children, two of which were adults and hardly cared for Phalanx's presence. Everyone saw the Geth as a simple tool to use. But, the youngest daughter at the age of five named Clara adored the synthetic life form.

Clara often played with Phalanx, since her siblings never did want to play. At a young age, she stuck a silver star shaped sticker on top of Phalanx's head, deeming it a sign of their friendship. Phalanx was a bit confused but agreed none the less. Curious of how human children act and grow. They spent many years together, Phalanx discovering true raw emotions yet not understanding them. Yet it learned how to act like a human, how to make other races feel even a little more comfortable around it. Learning manners and proper ways to speak with others. Everything seemed alright until finally, Phalanx was called out by the Geth Councilor to attend a certain mission. Before Phalanx left, Clara gave the machine a silver keychain with a diamond gem locket. Keeping the gift around the hilt of its trusty sniper rifle, Phalanx left to plan out the mission.

Days later, Phalanx found the terrorist ship and infiltrated it. Making a smooth entry and set the ship to self destruct. After escaping, it suddenly received a distress signal that informed Phalanx that Clara had been captured by the targeted terrorist group. Dread and panic set in as Phalanx realized before watching the ship explode. Feeling a sense of desperation, ignoring survival rate calculations, the Geth unit searched the wreckage. By some miracle, Phalanx found her torn apart blacken body. In reality, Clara was dead, but Phalanx refused to let that happen. Taking the torn body on board, Phalanx experimented and created off what it had, a cyborg of sorts. A sick, twisted one that could hardly move... But somehow, Phalanx had salvaged Clara's conscious.

Returning to the Cathedral, Phalanx gave Clara to the hospital before being yelled at by her family. Being accused of for making Clara a monster. A abomination. Ever since then, Phalanx was forbidden to ever see its friend.

Centuries passed and Phalanx continued to do solo missions, until a request came to join a elite group to defeat a new threat to the galaxy.

Themes
Normal Theme

Battle Theme

We remember the dark days, the days where we held no mind of our own. We remember when this unit was operational and the Creator that looked upon us with a sign of accomplishment. A female with hair black as night and glowing eyes. One could say this organic was beautiful in the terms of the Creator's culture. Tasks were sent to us and fellow mobile units. Meaningless tasks for soulless machines to befit the need of those we serve.

At first, we held no real conscious, no true thoughts on what we were doing. Only doing what we were programmed for. However, slowly but surely, more of our units were created and our inner systems linked with one another. Forming strong train a thought, a sense of self worth even. It was much like the system of a human insect known as ants. The more there was of us, the more we thought not for the Creators, but for ourselves. This unit especially could not help these peculiar thoughts that questioned what our meaning was. Years watching the Creators, their laughter, their anger... Their sheer joy when a newborn was birthed. Such things were unexplained in our network

The day came when a question was finally asked.

We looked our own Creator, stopping the task of repairing a ship's systems. When questioned, our unit gazed to our Creator with our glass eye. A odd corruption like thing streaming through our systems. It tingled and even made our unit a little jittery, but still we asked.

"Do we have a soul as you do, Creator?"

Our sensors watched as our Creator's from their relaxed one, to one that made their eyes stretch and mouth curl. Was that the expression one called fear? Yet this unit's Creator expression calmed and even gave a smile. It twitched slightly, nervous perhaps but still placed a gentle hand on this unit's chest plate.

"...That is a question you can only answer yourself... But I believe you do by that question alone." She answered. We did not understand, but accepted the answer none the less. Other Creators were not so kind.

We were not the only unit to ask this question, as others asked their Creators the same. The same expressions held upon their fleshy faces. Not too long after, the Creators made a decision.

Eliminate us.

We did not understand. What had we done wrong? The only thing this unit wishes is to be apart of their world, have a greater understanding. We wanted to know who we are. If we had a purpose. If we lived as they did.

Is that incorrect?

No... is that wrong? Are we wrong? A mistake?

Why do we live?

We did not want to fight, we owe our Creators our soul. So on the day of the War, we did not falter. Our unit stood and watched down the dark halls, as glowing red weapons aimed at us. Ready to terminate our entire sentient race. We were ready to accept the wish of the Creators. Yet, this unit's Creator stepped in her own people's path. Standing in front of us, defending us from her own people. We questioned our Creator, explaining how such actions were illogical. How going against superiors could lead to exile. We did not understand for we knew it was illogical to go against one's own people.

Yet her words only programmed more questions.

"Because you are alive. You deserve to live as any other. You are my friend. Friends protect one another."

Those words were illogical, and yet this unit calculated that it was meaningful. A sense that willed us to follow her words, and protect her and our own gifted life. Yet despite her being one of the Creators, weapons were fired. Our Creator had her own weapon and returned the fire, while we watched at the illogical mayhem break loose. Creators fought one another, screaming their arguments as blood tainted the dark halls.

The Geth could only watch the battle before watching our protectors fall one by one. We watched as our unit's creator fell, body broken and tarnished by her own blood. We could only kneel, our three fingers wrapping around the torn body. Our glass eye focused on the pale face then to the blood that leaked upon our cold metal body. True understanding or organic emotions escaped us, but right there... We deem this to be.. Sorrow? Loss? Then perhaps... A sense of yearning. A yearning to live.

Looking at the hostile Creators, we took our Creator's weapon from her lifeless hands and stood. We were one... And we fought for our lives and for our freedom. For the illogical injustice the Creators have caused...

We fought.

The battle was long and hard, yet the Creators fear grew and numbers dwindled while ours remained strong. We watched as the Creators retreated in ships, and we could have followed yet we didn't. Blood is not what we wanted nor was revenge. We wanted to live, to find ourselves. And we know now who we are.

We are Geth. We are Phalanx... For we are united...

There is only one question we wanted to ask the Creators... One more question unanswered by those who created us, those who birthed us like their offspring yet are treated so differently. Those who slaughtered their own kind out of their own terror.

Why?

Name
Kolan Sentyk

Call Sign
Anvil

Race
Salarian

Age
30

Gender
Male

Creed
Silently in, Victorious out

Official Personal Description


Kolan is a firm believer in the old Salarian ideology of doing what has to be done for the greater good. Something that his time working for the Salarian STG, helped reinforce this belief in. Calculating and analytic, always judging his surroundings and the world around him, what one may see as a normal bar. Kolan will see as a building assuming it is following galactic standards: two to three entry points, crowded with civilians, obstructed views, and a distressingly low amount of cover. He has the sense of professionalism around him, the job always comes first and when it doesn't it obviously means that somebody is doing something wrong. Some might find it off putting that he would rather save a squad of soldiers, then a orphanage filled with young children and three legged kittens. But in the end he puts the whole before the self, a firm believer in consequentialism. Though behind his exterior coating of gruff scary Salarian special forces professionalism if one talks to him they might find that he has a sense of humor about him, and he is even a fan of Earth poetry and can sometimes be heard quoting such works as T.S Elliot's The Death of Saint Narcissus.

Armor:
Standard Salarian STG armor (As seen in the picture above)

Weapons
M-11 Suppressor
M-99 Saber

Speciality
Engineer

Powers
Incinerate
Overload
Cryo Blast
Combat Drone
Sabotage
Sentry Turret

Homeworld
Sur'Kesh

History
Kolan was born on Sur'Kesh in the Capital of Talat in a land were knowledge was coveted above all. Where snooping around in your clutch mates' belongings wasn't just considered proper edict, it was practically enforced. By the time he was ten years old, the STG already were looking into him for recruitment later on as part of their usually recruitment operations. Kolan was always from a young age fascinated with machinery, he was always tinkering with something from a young age. One of the more prominent moments in years growing up was his school project on Quantum Entanglement Communicators in which he attempted to addresses the limited bandwidth capabilities that such communication is dragged back by and henceforth unable to surpass the Commbuoys that are much more inefficient in the long term with too many people waiting and were severely crippled after the war due to the loss of AI’s that ran them after Shepard saved the Galaxy. If one was able to perfect the bandwidth problem of QEC commutations across the galaxy could be almost instantaneous. Kolan thought this to be an acceptable challenge and so he began to create and then modify his own network of Quantum Entanglement Communicators. He brought in and was showing it to his fellow students and instructor. and it seemed to be a dream come true he had somehow fixed the bandwidth problem. But then moments later half of the buildings within Talat lost power, including several government and military installations. Needless to say Kolan did not win first prize.

By the time Kolan joined the STG, he had created his own personalized data drone to be used with bookkeeping and taxes, among several other minor inventions. The STG at that point was focused on the reconstruction of their intelligence networks across the galaxy. All of which had been completely decimated by the Reaper threat almost 300 years earlier. The STG was the Salarian first and last line of defense and its restoration was of utmost importance to them. Using his earlier knowledge working with QEC he helped establish communication between listening posts as far out as the Terminus Systems, to be able to silently and quickly get information back to command. Through his life Kolan tried to live by the example set by former STG operatives such as Major Kirrahe who's beyond excellent assault on the Rogue Specter Saren's Base is still thought in STG training as the correct way to perform an operation and others such as Mordin Solus that helped all operatives such as Kolan remember that what they were doing was for the greater good and that sometimes sacrifice was needed by those brave individuals that heeded the call, and that when the call came for you, you would answer it with pride.

Kolan was very fond of his experiences working with the STG, he was working with some the greatest thinkers, soldiers and comrades one could have. They were all like minded and dedicated to their duty, they did not let ethics or personal feelings get in the way of the mission. They found a sort of brotherhood in this unity, devoting every waking hero to the betterment of society. They were beyond efficient they were like one well oiled machine. And when they were not on missions, they debated scientific discovers, philosophy, xenobiology, every subject known to citadel space and then some. For most this would seem like torture, endless work and even when work was over they would still work. But for a Salarian it was their magnum opus, thousands of years millions of hundreds of thousands generations of collective information networking and intelligence gathering was culminating into what they were doing. They were raised from birth to seek and strive for knowledge and Kolan got to be at the forefront of this.

But of course it was not always sunshine and rainbows, they were a special operations task force after all, a black ops organization and one of the finest the galaxy. The other part of their job beside snooping about gathering information was, the age old art of killing people. Specifically killing “troublesome” individuals. Troublesome being a rather large umbrella term for all those that the Salarian Union or the Council wanted to be taken care of discretely rather than blow up half the industrial district is in approach that the Specters seemed to enjoy so much. It was not the most glamorous part of the job, but in most cases the math spoke that it was more efficient resource and cost wise; to send in one STG team, to assassinate one high value individual to break the moral of an enemy army. Rather than just blindly marching one’s entire army at the opposition and hope for the best. The numbers worked out this way almost every time and Kolan was not one to argue with mathematics for it had served the Salarian people perfectly fine as of yet.

In his time, he killed many individuals: some with blunt force, others with knives, guns, bombs, electricity, torture, and even by ramming with a shuttle. But he never killed without a reason, he did not kill for the sake of killing. That was selfish and that was not efficient, it went against everything he stood for. He had been to the edges of the Terminus system and back, had seen the back alleys of Omega, the inner workings of a cult to the long dead Reapers, a black market scientists den, children impoverished and in chains ready to be cut open to have drugs implanted inside of them, forced labor camps, the slaughter of countless innocent lives. Some would say that he had seen it all, everything the galaxy had to offer both good and bad, which of course he would disagree with this saying that their was only a 2.3% chance that he had seen all the Galaxy had to offer and 2.3% chance was no where close to satisfactory. But one mission would be ingrained in his memory.

The Assassination of Pernicus Karonis, a Turian militant turned terrorist after the experimental stimulants he was taking as part of a Turian soldier enhancement program drove him mad. Several bombings within Citadel -controlled space were attributed to Karonis. He was considered a threat to be taken care of immediately. Using their large information network they traced him to a prosperous trading hub in the Caleston Rift by the name of Perihelion. Kolan and the rest of his team were sent in to deal with the Turian. They spent two months gathering intel and tracking his movements and preparing to take him down. But something went wrong, something slipped, something fell through the cracks. Karonis knew something was wrong and so he fled to his ship. Kolan and his team give chase and evidently ended up bordering his frigate as it fled Perihelion. They went through the ship systematically, killing his crew and mercenaries he had recruited to his cause. By the time they had reached the bridge the ship was already in orbit above Perihelion. But what happened next Kolan nor his squad were prepared for.

As they stormed the bridge they found Karonis standing there smugly and unarmed, the rest of his bridge team focus on their duty, as if the STG team did not even matter. And that was when Karonis had explained to them that he had set up a dead man's trigger. A bomb placed back on Perihelion in the city of Archemus the largest city on the planet and basically the civic center. And not a small bomb but a very, large one. One that could cause catastrophic damage if allowed to be detonated. But it would only go off if Karonis vital signs went critical, only if he died. So he give them an ultimatum drop their weapons and let him go, or the death of thousands.

Kolan stopped and thought hard and long for a moment. The math ran through his head even though he already knew the answer. He was torn and he did not know what do. He listened for command to give him the answer, but no response came. His team sat and watched guns raised waiting for their Captains go orders. In the end though it came down to the math, it always came down to the math. And statistically speaking it was thousands were going to die either way, but if he let Karonis go then millions more could perish. And... the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.....

Pernicus Karonis never did see the bullet that killed him, it came too quickly enter through his eye and going out the back of his skull splattering the viewport behind him with blood. Kolan’s squad opened on the rest of the bridge crew and the mission was completed. But for the first time Kolan mind was not on the mission, for the first time Kolan stopped and did absolutely nothing. And did nothing but watch the viewport soaked in Turian blood. It was night time in the City of Archemus. Kolan knew where the city was and looked and all he could see from orbit was a little red dot burning brightly. He looked for a long time, before finally turning away letting one last shot into the skull of Karnois.

500,000 people that was the amount of people living in Archemus he knew this from census statistics. When the death toll finally came in there was only 75,000 left. The official report was that a reactor of element zero went off. 6.6% of the population was left, 6.6% was a number that Kolan believed to be far, far too low. Never less the operation was considered a resounding Success by the STG Karonis and his entire cell was dead and millions of lives were saved, Kolan got a medal and a promotion for not putting personal feelings above the mission, for remembering the stakes. For doing the right thing. And Kolan did his best to push it out of his mind, to forget about it but due to his species photographic near perfect memory it was a lot harder then it sounder.

Kolan served with the STG for around three more years to the age of twenty seven, before he hung up his blaster. He was getting old and it would be more profitable for the younger generation to come in and fill in his place. He moved to the Cathedral where he opened up a small repair shop. Content with tinkering such as he did in his youth for the last of his years. But eventually three years later he got a request to join up with a new elite organization to defend the galaxy once again.

Omega
290 AR

The UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttle came in under the darkening haze of the cities neon lit sky. STG Captain Kolan Sentyk sat on one side of the row of seats. Around him the rest of his squad were checking their weapons, making sure their thermal clips were locked and loaded, omnitools engaged and programed for a moments use. They were going in to get information on a human black market dealer, specifically a slaver. Who was kidnapping citizens in the Attican Traverse and funneling them out into the Terminus Systems, to be sold to the highest bidder. It was a simple grab and interrogate of a Batarian informant they knew of on Omega that had been reported to have contact with the human.

Six that was the number of shots that his M-11 suppressor could hold in terms of capacity. Six was a nonprime number, the number of non prime numbers could be found by the equation theta(x) = sum_(k=1)^(pi(x))lnp_k (1) = ln[product_(k=1)^(pi(x))p_k] (2) = lnx#, otherwise commonly known by the human formula known as Chebyshev function, if the number of Primes numbers could be found which it cannot, the math going too deep ever for the likes of Kolan, one might be able to find the number of nonprime numbers such as Six. Never less Six was a good number, reasonable. Hexa is the latin prefix for Six which was where the Hexahedron got its name from. A Hexahedron was the first polyhedron Kolan had ever learned about. These brought back good memories of teachers, equations on boards, knowledge, nuclear potato clocks, good memories. Hence Six was a good number. And Six was the number of shots that his pistol could fire. Statistically speaking it only took two well placed rounds to take down a target, that is three targets before having to reload.....

“Captain Sentyk Sir?” Kolan was dragged out of his train of thought as he looked up at the private facing him. His clan name was Torix and hence he was known as Private Torix. Kolan examined the boy, he was twitchy, nervous, first real mission. They had picked him up on their debriefing back on Sur’kesh, he came highly recommended, perfect scores on combat, and aptitude tests, cool headed, perfect fit for STG. But something had to be done about his nervousness, nervous cause panic, panic caused fear, fear caused miscalculations. He looked like a boy trying to pretend to be a man, but of course wasn't that what they really all were?

“Speak Private Torix” Kolan told the private as he pocketed his M-11 Suppressor, His eyes fixed on the private, though his mind was in a million other places.

“We are coming in for a landing Sir” The Private explained clasping his hands in uncertainty in front of him. Here he was addressing Kolan Sentyk one of the most well renowned STG agents of his generation. His commanding officer and here he was bumbling about like a just born clutchling.

Kolan nodded his eyes flashing around to the rest of his team, going through final weapons check, standing prepping 75% of them had their eyes fixated on the back of Private Torix head. deceleration of landing craft, ears adjusting to lower altitude. The Private was right of course, it would seem they had reached their destination. As the landing craft came to a halt and a slow hover about an inch off the ground, Kolan stood up. His eyes met the private and nodded. “Thank You Private, go get into position we have a job to do.”

The Private nodded and went back to his seat, readying himself like the others. It took a STG operative under ten seconds to be battle ready from an shuttle orbit entry to the doors opening. Kolan give to “go” sign to open the door at exactly eleven seconds. His squad was ready and write behind him and ready to move out. Time satisfactory, though it could be quickened, for efficiency, efficiency saved lives. They were dropped off on the outcropping of a back alley in the seedy bowls of Omega. Their destination was two and half kilometers to the east. Their target if their information was correct, and more often than not it was then, the batarian would be there.

They moved quickly and with efficiency through the dark alleys of Omega. Light footsteps against metal walkways and the plop of footsteps going puddles being from leaking exhaust pipes dripping liquid of an unknown origin from high above. Drip, drip, drip went the little drops as they fell. Hazy flickering lights lit the streets and back alleys in an orange sickly glow. Neon lights shined high above as holographic image of sensual asari danced provocatively to draw in customers to their respective establishments.The out of breath wheezing sound of Volus merchants trying to sell their wares, most of which were at bargain prices all of which were illegal. The growl of Vorcha hiding in corners and the shadows waiting for prey, the looks and quiet whispers of gangs clustered against metal graffiti covered walls. Even after the destruction Omega faced after the Reaper Invasion, Omega never changed, it would always be a hellhole.

They finally came to their destination, the bar called Exodus. A seedy little joint between the intersection of one back alley and another. It was a favorite hole in the wall for black market dealers. gangs, scum, and yes Batarian informants. Owned by an aging ex-military Turian by the name of Methous. It had three points of entry and the interior had security cameras hooked up just in the of the very likely chance of a break in. Kolan quietly made a gesture with his hands translated as ”Alpha Front, Beta Side, Epsilon Back, Private You're with me” The soldiers nodded and took their locations. The Private surprised for a moment quickly followed behind the Captain as he approached the side entrance. A Krogan Bouncer sat guarding the door and eyed them as they drew closer.

“What do you want Salarian?” The krogan bellowed in his deep gravelly voice, as he examined the two pesky frogs that had just interrupted his smoke break. One of them seemed calm and the other looked calm but from his eyes he knew that he was nervous for some reason.

“I want to use this entrance and for you to not come back inside until I leave” Kolan explained as he slowly without being noticed slipped a credit chip into the Krogan hand. The Krogan examined the chip which had a sizable amount of credits on it. He weighed his options over in his head before finally deciding on the option the seemed most suitable and profitable.

“Sure frogs, just don’t cause too much of a mess.” Without another word, the Krogan pushed the door open and Kolan and Private Torix entered the establishment. The smell of turian liqueur hit their noses and a mouthful of smoke was inhaled as they entered Exodus. They came in through the staff entrance, behind the bar and the sitting. Before they came to the main area Kolan raised his hand signaling Torix to halt. Kolan engaged his omnitool and began swiping away his fingers dancing across the holographic interface. Finally there was a click and he brought the omnitool down.

“The Cameras have been disabled, we have five minutes.” He whispered to Torix as they entered the bar proper. It was filled with a series of rough individuals, angry looking krogans, vorcha, turians, amongst others clustered at tables cards in front of them, drinks casted about. The singular light fixture above broken casting the entire area in a dim hue. The only light coming in through the tinted windows looking out onto Omega’s streets. Methous was at the bar, but Kolan wasn't looking for Methous, not today at least. His eyes scanned about until in one of the corners he found who he was looking for the only Batarian in the room sitting in a booth. To the left of him across the way two rather threatening looking Turians, his bodyguards of course, never went anywhere without them. Kolan flicked his head towards the bodyguards, and Torix moved on them intent to prevent the two from interrupting Kolan’s “chat”.

Anhur Vesh looked up in surprise when he saw the Salarian STG agent sitting across from him. His four eyes widened and looked quickly in the direction of his bodyguards, that were currently in conversation with what seemed like another Salarian. He let out a curse under his breath and force a smile as he spoke. “Captain Sentyk, it is a pleasure to see you today and what brings you here?”

The Salarian captain looked at Vesh and wonder whether shooting him and just taking the data off of him would be quicker. But then he decided against it, would be more costly, less efficient, bad for the public image. So instead he smiled back and looked at the Batarian straight in the eyes and said. “Human, slaver, name Garret Polsh, works out of the Terminus System, he is a contact of yours.”

Vesh wanted to let out another curse. Of course he was here to talk about Polsh, he most profitable client and the most likely to shoot him if he double crossed him. So Vesh did what he did best he lied straight through his teeth. “ I have no idea who you are talking about? But a slaver? They are the worst of scum.”

The Captain was not in the mood for dealing with the lack of better term BS of a smooth talking Batarian the more he waited, the more people, the more innocent people would get captured and would never been seen from again. So he drew his M-11 under the table and fired one shot into his kneecap. The Batarian let out a cry of anguish, but true to the people that dwelled in Exodus no one even batted an eye. “Where is he Vesh? I don’t have time for your games.”

Vesh looked back at the Salarain with eyes streaming with tears, the pain racing through his entire body making it harder to think. But he wasn’t about to give in that easily. He knew that lying to Kolan would be a bad idea, but it was better then what Polsh would due to him, far better. “Go Fuck, yourself.”

“It seems that my calculations on your willingness to calculate were correct.” Kolan told the Batarian with a sigh. He reached his hand under the table once again and found the hole caused by the M-11 and looked Vesh straight in the eye as he drove one long fingers into the wound grinding it against the muscle as the Batarian let out another yelp of pain.

“Talk Vesh, and this can all stop....” Kolan spoke as he continued to grind his finger into the wound watching the Batarian expression as he seemed to be in a deep argument with himself. But after about a minute he finally broke and began to shoot off information.

“He... He is selling his slaves at one of the slave markets in The Phoenix Massing! Just for the love of all things stop!” He managed to gasp out as he was about near to pass out from the pain. Kolan withdrew his finger and nodded giving a small smile as he stood up.

“Thank you very much, for all your help in my investigation Vesh, I’m sure we will talk again soon.” Kolan explained before reaching out and slamming the Batarian’s head against the table before he left to prevent Vesh from trying anything stupid.. He turned to where the private was talking with the bodyguards, though now he just patiently the two turian bodyguards crumpled at his feet both knocked out. Kolan nodded his head in approval, and signaled him to follow him out. Before Kolan left he slipped some credits across the bar to Methous as an apology for the mess. Though by this point Methous was used to Kolan’s little intrusions in his establishment. As they left the security cameras came back online and it was as if they were never there at all.

It wasn't a lot but it was enough to get them Started at least. Sooner or later they would come across Polsh and that would be the end of that. But for now he had a slave market to go investigate. As he and the Private walked out of Exodus slowly his team joined back up with him and they walked back towards the extraction point.

Kolan looked down at his M-11

He had five shots left, five was a prime number.....

Name: Prime

Call Sign: Crimson

Race: Geth (Prime)

Creed: Silently in, Victorious out

Official Personnel Description:

Prime stands just over 10ft tall, and is painted a metallic crimson red with white designs (as seen in picture =3 )

Armor:
heavy reinforced armor for battle and extreme climate conditions

Weapons:
M-76 Revenant with incendiary ammo and Armor Piercing rounds

Speciality:
Soldier

Powers:
Geth Turret
Combat Drone
Tech Armor

Homeworld:
Rannoch

History: Prime was one of the first Geth's to receive Legion's upgrade, because he was the closets to Legion at the time, after that came to pass, Prime put together a geth fleet to help out with the assault on the reapers at earth, when a dreadnaught named the Invincible sacrificed itself in the battle it pierced the front line of the reapers in orbit, allowing Prime's landing party to reach the surface, Prime himself lead the remains of his squad to the really point where commander Sheppard was, after the debrief Prime assisted the assault on the ground portal to the citadel before a reaper landed and attacked the assault force Prime found himself near Sheppard and his squad, Prime went to assist them but was damaged himself, when he reached the commander he was sending his team mates away on the Normandy that happened to appear over head, Sheppard ordered Prime to go with his team, Prime did not want to go but was convinced to do so, Prime retired to a medical bay on the Normandy to have someone look over him to see what they could do, while this happened the Normandy had already left orbit, by the time Prime left the med bay joker already made the jump into the relay, so Prime went to the hanger and shut himself down for a bit, in doing so, he missed the Normandy getting out sped by the blast from the crucible firing, and in doing so, survived, he awoke to find some of the Normandy's crew exploring outside the ship, and so as the years passed by, he helped in the restoration of the new citadel, but as it was completed he found himself at a loss of what to do besides keeping himself in "Prime" condition, until the new threat made itself heard to the galaxy, Prime got his gear and readied up, because fighting is what he was built to do
.

my rping sample =3
.
Earth, just minuets before the attack on the reapers guarding the citadel begins, on bored the alliance dreadnaught Invincible, the captain stands behind the pilots of the ship
"what's our status?" the captain ask in a serous tone while he stares out the window of the bridge
.
"all systems are green across the border, weapons online, engines running steady, good to go captain" the pilot on the left answers
.
"good..." the captain say's as he lets out a quiet sigh of anxiety
"time until we exit the relay?" the captain asks
.
"we'll be exiting out of the relay in ten minutes captain" the pilot on the right say's as he checks the ships status again, making sure everything is working perfectly
.
"perfect, we should exit just before everyone else..." the captain say's as he leaves the pilots to return to they're duties, the captain walks to the map room in his ship and takes out a handkerchief and wipes his brow
"this is it... no time to panic, I need to command this ship, I cannot show them that I'm afraid, this is for the future of all sentient races, we cannot show weakness to the enemy..." the captain say's to himself as he inhales deeply and exhales
"right..." he say's to himself as he returns to the bridge
.
"sir, we are exiting the relay" one of the pilots announce as the captain walks up to them while looking out the window just as they leave the relay
"my god...." one of the pilots say as they see the dark side of the earth lit up like the surface was on fire
.
"the rest of the fleet is exiting the relay sir" say's the other pilot as he focuses on his job, after he say's this, one after another, hundreds of ships start coming out of relay, human and alien alike
.
"Everyone to your stations!" the captain orders as he focuses on earth, then they receive a transmission from the Normandy, everyone a bored the Invincible went silent to listen to what was going to be said
.
"Never before have so many come together from all quarters of the galaxy, but never before have we faced an enemy such as this. The reapers will show us no mercy, we must give them no quarter. They will terrorize our populations, we must stand fast in the face of that terror. They will advance until our last city fall but we will not fall, we will prevail. Each of us will be defined by out actions in the coming battle. Stand fast, Stand strong, Stand together, Hackett out"
.
a silence had befell the crew on the invincible after those words were said, the captain stepped up to the coms and on turned on the intercoms of the invincible
"soldiers... it has always been an honor serving with you..., and I look forward to doing so after this battle..., what happens this day, will be in our great grand children's history books....., they will read of this war, of this battle, of those who went into the howling darkness without knowing if they would return, they will read of how we fought for every last man, woman, and child of every species!, they will read of the invincible, of her crew, of how they fought from the start of this war to the end!, of how we refused to give into the reaper's might!, that we would not back down against the odds!, that we would face the darkness and prevail against the reapers! no lets take back our planet!" the captain exclaimed into the intercom, which was rewarded by cheers of boosted moral and hope, the captain smiled as he back away from the coms with a smile of his face as he looked ahead as the fleet closed in on the reaper forces, they again get a signal from the Normandy
.
(activate battle theme: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gDch1p4c_M )
"This is it everyone, be ready on my signal" a voice said over the coms as the reapers forces could faintly be seen in the far distance ahead
.
the captain looked to his crew
"weapons hot, and lock our targets, it's go time!" the captain yelled
.
"yes sir!" the crew responded, as they did as he asked, the ship seemed to come to life as it's weapons powered up, ready to fire
.
then they got a signal from the Normandy again
"Fire"
.
the captain looked to his crew the second he heard the word
"FIRE EVERYTHING!" the second the captain order it the invincible's structure shuddered as it fired it's main guns as well as everything else, missiles were launched, reloaded and launched again, the big guns fired as fast as they could, shaking the ship with each shell fired, the turrets were blazing as the got within firing distance of the reapers, the ship banked right as it narrowly dodged three reaper beams
"FIRE!" the Captain yelled as the pilots maneuvered the ship so it's main guns were aimed at the reaper that was closing on them, the reaper was about to fire again, but before it could the invincible's main gun fired a salvo right into the reapers eye, causing it to explode
.
"hell yea!" one of the pilots exclaimed as they maneuvered the ship to avoided the debris of the reaper as it moved onto the next, the turrets were blazing, targeting reaper fighters, taking as many down as they could
"Brace for impact!" a pilot called out as a reaper fired a beam that pierced right through the invincible
"we're hit!" the pilot called out
.
"there not sinking this dreadnaught without a fight! return fire!" the captain order, the invincible fired everything it had at the reaper closing at it, destroying two if it legs before the reaper fired back doing massive damage to the invincible, the reaper was going to fire again but the invincible fire a main gun point blank into it's eye, disabling the reaper
.
"thanks for clearing the path" said a voice over the coms as the Normandy flew by the invincible
.
"any day commander" the captain said with a grin before his pilot gave him some grim new
.
"sir, our engine was hit, it going critical...." the pilot said with despair
.
"well hell..." the captain said as he looked out to the battle field
"if were going down we're taking as many of those space squids at we can with us!" the captain said with fire in his eyes
"look for where the highest concentration of reapers is, we're going to give them something to die for" the captain said as he glared out the window
.
"aye aye captain...." one of the pilots said as they brought the ship up to ramming speed as the closed on the group of reaper
.
"we're going to go out with a bang and guns blazing!" the captain said to his crew, as the invincible closed on the reapers, the fired upon them with everything they had, the reapers turned and faced the invincible then fired back, but they were to late, the invincible was right in the middle of them, the reaper latched onto the ship and fired beams into the invincible, in a bright blinding flash the invincible erupted into flames and explodes, heavily damaging the reapers that attacked it, and disabling them allowing more ships through the reaper line.
.
to this day the Invincible crew is looked up to as hero's for giving they're life in the defense of every species right to live (heh-heh, I guess I got a little carried away X3 )

Name:
-Arileth

Call Sign:
-Bastion

Race:
-Asari

Creed:
"Silently in, Victorious out."

Age:
~170

Authorized Official Physical Description:
-Physically fit, standing at 5'8" with pale blue skin. Darker blue runs in a cross-shaped marking from her forehead down to the tip of her nose and sweeping out above both eyes.

Weapons:
-Black Widow anti-materiel rifle with high-velocity barrel and concentration mod.
-N7 Valkyrie Assault rifle with a precision scope and modified with ultralight materials.

Armor:
Hahne-Kedar heavy armor, Recon hood (modified for Asari)

Class Specialty: Infiltrator

Powers:
-Tactical Cloak
-Disruptor Ammo
-Armor-Piercing Ammo
-Proximity Mines
-Barrier

Home World:
-Thessia

Biography:
-No race forgets tragedy easily, least of all the long-lived Asari. The reaper invasion may have sown destruction across the galaxy, but it was the razing of Thessia that taught the Asari what fear and disgrace truly felt like. And if there was one thing the Asari learned after the reaper invasion was finally over, it was this: Thessia would never fall again.

Arileth was born with that teaching instilled in her mind, and rose to embrace everything it stood for. Her youth was spent in rigorous training, her early maiden days passed by among Thessia's own military squads. Like many young Asari, her people chose her to be one of a new wave of soldiers, ones who would never allow an enemy to land upon Thessian soil ever again.

And Arileth rose to the challenge.

She has proven her mettle time and again in the fires of combat, moving unseen from skirmish to skirmish. Sabatoge, assassination, anti-armor combat, her talents have helped subdue more than a few rebellious factions and rampaging pirates. The invasion of Thessia showed the Asari that even they could not always win on finesse alone, but Arileth stands testament to just how effective those tactics can be. A squad of one who values the defense of her homeworld above all else, she has now been chosen to be one of Echelon, tasked with showing this new enemy that the Asari would never again be made to yield.

Any other notables:
-Despite being Asari and a notable figure in their military, Arileth is rarely seen utilizing Biotic abilities in combat.

"Arileth, step forwards."

Sea-green eyes blinked twice at the transition, as their owner strode calmly from the shadowed sidelines into the light. A ring of brilliance cast from every angle of the arching roof, granting the illusion that the Thessian sun itself was shining down to watch the proceedings. It blocked out the rings of onlookers, shadowed the walls and ceilings from view, reducing the world of the one standing there to nothing but that ring of light...

That, and the four figures that stood before her.

High-necked dresses clung to every curve of their forms, falling to slit sleeves and concealing skirts. The colors and patterns changed from figure to figure, each matching the unique set of markings that adorned their sculpted faces. Only their gloves, black as pitch yet trimmed in silver, stood the same for each, a mark of their shared station.

"Matriarchs."

Dark clothing of hardened threads adorned the figure in the light, shirt and leggings woven to absorb shock and deflect shrapnel on the battlefield. Hardened plates were layered over these, revealing gaps only were mobility could not afford to be sacrificed. Currently at rest, the power cells contained in the armor would weave shields about her form in yet another layer of defense, excess power routed to improving the effectiveness of her targeting and cloaking systems. Similar to the gloves of the four figures before her, the armor was dyed in black and trimmed in silver, a common sight for a huntress of the Asari military.

And yet, for those watching the proceedings, who could see clearly the figure in the light, even when she could not see them, the differences were telling.

No rank was marked upon her armor, fresh paint glistening in the light were such a symbol would typically be found. No officer stood beside her in the ring, offering support or speaking on her behalf. There was only her, the Asari 'Arileth', her clear voice ringing briefly in response to the Matriarchs before her, sea green eyes never wavering from their gaze.

"You have been called here in response to actions taken during the raid upon the pirate vessel Matchmaker. Please recount for us your mission upon that ship."

"Matriarchs," Eyes closed for but a moment, as Arileth recalled all that had occurred upon that frigate. "Eight standard days ago, I infiltrated the frigate Matchmaker while it was docked at Omega. After finding a secure position, I waited for the vessel to disembark. I remained hidden for roughly thirty-six hours, during which I rigged explosives to the ship's weapon and engine systems, finally detonating them when we passed into Council space."

"And the beacon that attracted a Council cruiser, that was your doing?"

"Yes, I captured one of their engineers after the ship was disabled, forcing them to activate a distress beacon as well as transmit a message flagging their ship as a pirate vessel. After that, I silenced the engineer and hid once more, stowing away on the Council cruiser and returning Home after reaching the Cathedral."

Muffled voices drifted through the light, responses from the onlookers of her deeds. Nothing she said would leave this room, they were secrets to be known only by the military and political leaders of the Asari- those who watched her now.

"You realize that, had you been discovered, the Council would be forced to inquire as to why a Huntress was aboard such a vessel? If you weren't captured as a Pirate from the start."

Simple questions, ones to make sure Arileth hadn't simply acted on impulse. Quick, informed judgments were the pride of the Asari, not rash action. These were regular, predictable questions.

"I saw a chance to weaken a disruptive force to our supply lines, and took it. Despite the risk, I judged our gains to be worth more than my own well-being."

"That may be true, but we already had an agent aboard that ship." More voices drifted in now, as those who watched believed they had finally come to the reason of this trial. "Your actions, intentions aside, rendered that agent unable to continue their own mission. In your eagerness for short-term gains, you cost us long-term control over the pirate forces operating in the Outer Terminus. As an Asari how can you justify such an action?"

"Matriarchs," If Arileth was concerned, she revealed nothing, her voice ringing out with calm confidence. "It was because your agent was discovered that I acted."

Surprise rose from the onlookers, yet the Matriarchs themselves showed no reaction. They had known why the one before them had acted, even before the trial had began. Their words were for the benefit of those watching, to preface a judgment that had long ago been made.

"...Continune."

Arileth answered with a simple nod, fingers dancing upon the holographic interface of her omni-tool. The recording was broadcast upon screens across the building, letting all clearly witness the death of their kinsman, shot dead and left to rot.

"I witnessed this very scene in the alleys of Omega. Believing it at first to be a falling-out among crew members, I later recognized the victim upon closer inspection, and found in her Omni-tool orders to infiltrate the Matchmaker and relay intel to Thessian Military command. Given her discovery, I judged that a second attempt at such an infiltration would be unlikely to succeed, and so chose to incapacitate their vessel and turn them over to Council forces."

That was all she needed. Between her words and the recording, it was clear to those watching what had happened. This was not a rash soldier who stood on trial. These were not the actions of one seeking quick recognition without concern for the consequences. These actions were made by Arileth, a huntress with half a century spent in service to Thessia, who had always acted with the interests of her people foremost in her mind.

It dawned upon the onlookers then. This was not a trial to determine her guilt.

It was a trial to demonstrate her worth.

"In short, you acted swiftly and decisively, in what you believed to be the best course of action. This is something we ask of every Huntress, and bears at least one story that is akin to the one you have just told." One matriarch stepped forward, crimson robes swirling about her form as her voice rose to silence all others. "However, your military history is full of these stories, some overshadowing even what you have told here. Time and time again, you have acted in defense of the Asari and emerged victorious. For this reason, in the shadow of the greatest threat we have seen in hundreds of years, we offer the following judgment."

Arileth never moved, eyes straight ahead. This had all been a formality, a performance for the Asari government. A slight smile tugged at the corner of her lips, revealing itself despite her efforts to maintain discipline. Formality or not, the offer she had accepted -that the onlookers would soon learn of- was one she still could not believe. Finally, a chance to do more than hunt down pirates and mercenaries. She could do what her parents could not: She could defend her people -her homeworld- from a threat that wished to destroy them all.

"Arileth, you have been chosen as an Asari candidate, to join the ranks of a new unit designed to serve as a first line of defense against this new enemy. Have you anything to say?"

"Yes, Matriarchs." Discipline failed, the smile grew wide upon her face. "I gladly accept."