[h3][u][center]Hanger-> Quarters-> Hanger again[/center][/u][/h3]

“[color=rosybrown]Well, I need something to do. Can’t say I’m as talented you two ladies. My most useful skills when it comes to engineering is mainly wielding and even that is limited.[/color]” Vellios stated, his tone cheeky but lacking sarcasm or pride over his limitations. He didn’t see the point in pretending he wasn’t useless at some aspects through he made up for it in other areas. As far as he was concerned,  if he could make a living off his current skill set then that was good enough for him and no extra skills were needed. It didn’t go without saying it would make his life easier however.  

The turian’s eyes lingered, mostly in habit, to admire Tanya’s curves. Despite her being human, he had to admit she had curves in all the right places when she bent down to examine her crate and slowly shifted his sight elsewhere. Mainly to the crates that needed to be moved before him. Since no one else was going to do it, he took it upon himself and shifted the first crate from the top and pulled it down. His fingers snapped open the lid to reveal several medi gels unused and packaged for what he assumed was the medical bay on the ship. A meager supply, Vellios knew with the number on board and likely trouble they were going to get into, there was little hope this supply would last more than a week. Even if they rationed a small amount to each member and somehow managed not to kill each other during the flight, the odds of them getting out of every fight unscratched would be a miracle. He, himself, would’ve used numerous medi gel if only to keep him on his feet and useful to the current crew. 

A turian muscle being on bed rest half the time was more problematic and cost wasting than one that managed his own upkeep. That notion along was a sure fire way to get him a one way off this flying heap and into the gutter on some nearest planet colony. Sighing, Vellios snapped shut the lid then moved onto the next crate. He paused long enough to activate his omnitool. It casted a orange glow and bussed slightly, a screen from his last play log came up instantly causing him to flick it back down and pull up a connection to the ship’s logs. He scanned for the cargo listing to scan through, checking off the medi gel supplies as well as the crate’s amount. 

He was sure someone was going to be disappointed.    

It was most likely all the recent fund from any jobs they could salvage up might go for the parts and basic essentials, rather than medical supplies and luxuries for a while. Part of him worried there might not be a decent medic onboard and that spelt a disaster waiting to happen. With this many on board and little to no idea of what everyone’s skill set was, Vellios smirked at the mess Serena and him were currently in. While he was confident he would survive, his thoughts drifted to Serena’s chances for the moment causing him to wonder. 

Looks like he was going to have to do some digging on his current teammates throughout this experience and possibly during their outing. At worse he would have to scrape up some useful medical downloads and gain some additional credits on Omega through some illegal fighting, the later sounding the most appealing. He wondered, idly, if any of the others were interested in joining as either contestants or observers. Through they might also try to stop him. Vellios’ mouth curved into a turian smile at the challenge and returned his mind to cataloguing the supplies for whoever was the knucklehead that deemed himself best to lead this misfit crew. A job, he didn’t envy taking himself really.  

Setting his own belongings aside, he was almost done with the small amount of supplies, the Salarian likely going for cheapness rather than quality, 

Vellios was still sorting through things- half way through everything-and adding to the list when the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. He paused then tilted his head up to listen, resting his eyes from the display on his omnitool, than absorbing the turian pilot’s humor.  

"[color=darkgreen]Attention all crew, we have docked successfully at the horrifically dingy Afterlife District. To your left you can see some prostitute giving a batarian a blowjob in the alley, while off to the right you can see some gang members, looks like Bloodpack, shaking down a local for protection money. Please step lightly while exiting, you might just trip over a dead body.[/color]"  

Chuckling, he used a single finger to push down his current list then turn off his omnitool. Slowly he leaned to the side and rose to his feet, feeling his carapace ache with each movement from his sitting position. He swear there was a soft crackling with each motion causing him to realise how long he been in it. Gently he stretched, working out the kinks for several moments letting his body adjust before he leaned over to retrieve his bags. Hauling them over his shoulder, Vellios then slinked off to likely what quarters weren’t occupied. He passed a few members heading to the hanger while suddenly his omnitool flickered to life and a voice, raspy and statically, came on over it.     

"[code]Alright children, gather round and listen up. My name is Mirage and I will be your tour guide today on the lovely garden-world known as Omega. Pay attention, because Mirage is good and Mirage is wise. Using my extensive deductive capabilities -- and by listening in on your conversations -- I've compiled a list of everything we need to do here.[/code]” 

Vellios knew he shouldn’t have left his omnitool hooked up to the ship’s systems, his mind making a mental note to get better security for the future. He wasn’t exactly pleased someone had literally hacked his tool, allowing them to fiddle with his system and even cripple his combative capabilities. Being weaponless is the most dangerous thing in this world as he continued to listen with mild interest, his hand rested along the only remaining quarter’s doorway.  

"[code]First off; parts. We all know this ship is a rustbucket. If you can tell the wrong end from the right end of a wrench, please take responsibility. We also need food. One of the other levo-based lifeforms on this vessel, please tag along.[/code]" 

He checked that skill off his list. Despite his basics, he wasn’t the best choice for getting parts through he was likely to tag along with Serena and Tanya just to keep them out of trouble, the prior being a bit too innocent for his tastes to risk trusting her on her own.  The voice paused a moment, seeming to recollect something and continued. 

"[code]We obviously also need fuel. Drono, you said something about weapon coolant? Whatever, it's on the list. Have fun. [/code]”

Nope...Vellios thought blandly, noting the unfamiliar name. 

"[code]Also, in case any of you morons get shot, we need medical supplies.[/code]”

Again, not his department. Yes, if needed he could be a makeshift medic as he knew the basic means to take down anything from a asari to a krogan, with lacking medical knowledge over the vocha, drell and less than perfect on human. Having him go on a supply run for both dextros and levos beings was a rather terrible idea since he could very well end up getting something useless and practically fatal to both races here on Omega. Over all a waste of credits if he ever saw one. 

“[code] And last but not least, we need credits, which means we need work. Those of you with actual social skills, please apply. Check?[/code]”  

Social skills he was well tune with but unfortunately he wasn’t about to leave Serena  alone. It was like leaving a FTL drive with a history of melting down and trusting it not to repeat itself, a fact he wasn’t about to do. No, someone else was going to have to deal with the work getting and he hoped they didn’t fuck it up. Little disappointed he was going to be stuck babysitting, Vellios edged into his room and got ready for the trip, his ears still listening to the machine like voice rambling onward.  His body slid in sideways, maneuvering around the tight space, into the cramped quarters. 

“[code] Check. Now, since we're all adults, I'm going to assume you know how to work together; that goes for the humans too. Form groups and distribute the responsibilities. I was born and raised on Omega, so if you have any questions about where you need to go, whisper. Once you've formed the squads, let me know so I can assign you completely randomly generated call-signs. Mirage out.[/code]” 

Vellios set his things down with a soft thump in  the middle of the small, compacted room. Reaching back, he tugged the door close causing it to screech in pain then proceeded to unpack his armor. He chose the Survivor Armor due to its light weight and protection which would give him maximum mobility in the field through it wouldn’t be able to take heavy gun fire or biotics assaults. After donning the armor over his clothes, he then unloaded and put together his Scimitar, Assault Rifle and  Sniper Rifle. 

After placing them on his back,  he let himself adjust to the familiar weight once more. He would be lying if he didn’t admit it felt good to be suited up once more. Vellios thumped the remaining bags on top of his bunk to be sorted later while he turned on heel and walked out of the door. 

[hr]

On entering the hangar, it seemed everyone was taking their sweet time arriving. Unfazed or worry about the time constriction, Vellios pulled up his display screen on his omnitool once more then scanned his programs to make sure everything was in working order. He was still edgy over the earlier hacking, sending his instincts into higher awareness, while he decided to test his boundaries. Something he had learned during his time back on the Haides and about the only useful skill besides how many ways there were to die, how to kill and less savvy skill sets. He snapped his screen down back into his omintool before he began.   

“[color=rosybrown]Well, folks it might be productive if we introduced ourselves, list our skills briefly and determine what we’re heading for so it makes getting into groups easier. Namely, as Mirage said, before we head out into Omega. [/color]” Vellios inhaled then continued. 

"[color=rosybrown]I’ll start since I spoke up first. Name’s Vellios Malkai, specialty in muscle and hired gun. I have basics in hacking, wielding, medical skills, wide range of anatomy knowledge, and a few other baseline skills that I hope will help.[/color]” Vellios’ eyes panned the hangar, his figure casually walked into the center of the hangar so everyone could easily hear him. He figured he would start introductions then move onto his thoughts about how the groupings should work and such. Through with this group, someone else might take charge and alter everything. This didn’t bother him through it might create conflict with his agenda, which it wasn't like he couldn't adapt in the end. Even if he had to merely do what he wanted rather than stick with his group assignment. 

“[color=rosybrown]Who’s next? Or do I get to give everyone a nickname based on the first thing that pops into my mind?[/color]”