"Credits just cleared boys and girls, let's get in there and kill us some slavers."

The motley crew of Batarians, Humans, even a Krogan or two started chattering, grabbing their weapons and arms. Everything from Pistol carrying Engineers, reliant on their tech and tricks instead of weapons, to that one Krogan grabbing a M-79 Revenant, they knew his type. Under armor, Krogan regeneration and battle frenzy, that bastard tended to plow through doors and barricades as readily as a breaching charge might. The one that stood out though, was the Quarian. compared to the barbed armor of the Batarians and size of the Krogan, one might be forgiven for thinking him a human with oddly designed armor at a glance. But no, it was a Quarian with some very, very unusual gear for anyone.

One of the rookies of the band was staring as the Quarian loaded up his rifle, the Human Engineer he was hounding for details about the Quarian pointed out it was a Kishock, and he was always told it stayed holstered on capture jobs. His backup was a Graal, getting another double take from the Rookie. Every Quarian the kid had seen, was always these tech heavy engineers or used a lightweight, efficient sniper rifle, not Batarian and Krogan designed gear, asking the Engineer why he had that kind of kit. "Like hell if I know where he got it from, or a taste for that kind of gear. All that I, and that you should, care about is the job gets done. Might be messy, but it gets the job done."

"Besides that, kid, you're too chatty to not drop in one shot. You wouldn't know if I tagged you." Said rookie practically spun and fell off the crate, aforementioned Quarian standing there, rifle resting in his arms, cradled while the Engineer started laughing his ass off, rapidly showing the stunt had been planned between the two. The rookie shook his head, muttering something as he stood up and stalked off, while Jal'Werral shook his head before making his way to the shuttle bay. Everyone already knew the details, slavers of all sorts holed up in a station out in an asteroid field, finally ticked off the powers that be on Omega enough times to warrant sending the mercenaries in. They didn't work with any of the major three names, freelance group, made them cheaper and quieter than the other three. Job was simple, broadcast they were looking to buy, disembark, and kill every last son of a bitch on the station.

Jal'Werral was part of the infiltration team, the ones going in first to open up the rest of the ship to the main forces. Well, not first as far as the slavers were concerned, the other team loading up were the ones broadcasting. Jal, dropping the second half of his name like most did, would be cloaked before the shuttle opened up, slipping in and disabling automated security before the primary team were discovered or opened fire. They would act even if the defenses were up, but the plan would go smoother without them. Sure enough, the slavers bought the ruse, giving the shuttle docking instructions and the flight in was quiet, if a bit tense for the mercs. The most charismatic of the group, also the one in charge of the band, was an Asari, and she would be doing the talking. The rest were bodyguards and for coralling and controlling the 'merchandise'.

Doors opened, and the two Krogans and Batarian 'bodyguards' escorted the boss out, and at a glance that was it. In practice, the Quarian was out first, ducking past the slavers empty greetings and such while the main group worked forward. The rest of the merc war band was lurking in waiting on the cruiser they were using as a base of operations, when the automated systems dropped, that would be the time to strike. Quietly moving through the halls, it didn't take the experienced Quarian long to reach the control center of the slaver station, a handful of workers and bean counters there with the two extremely bored looking human guards. Well, they looked bored, so Jal decided to liven the place up, by killing every last one of them. Checking his M-11, including its integral suppressor, he rose and shot the one guard right between the eyes, cloak turning off from the weapons fire, but not before shooting the other guard. Neither of em had shields, how conveniant, muttering out loud as he turned towards the remaining four. "One, two..."

..."Three, Four, Five, Six. Each number had him killing one of the slavers in the room, watching the light on his M-11 go red, indicating its need for a new thermal clip, as the last man in the room slumped against the console. Shaking his head, he reloaded and pulled the corpse off the console, sitting down and, after wiping the blood off, checked the systems. All running, reliant on the continued operation of the control center to run. Fascinating, the Engineer would love to dissect this, no time though, work was work. Standing back up, he looked back at the central processing unit for the ship, hefting a Recon Mine and planted several of them on the processing tower, before heading for the exit, pausing and tossing an Inferno grenade behind him and sealing the doors. Sure as anything, the lights flickered and all the fancy turrets and mechs he had passed on the way here shut down, and quite a few alarms sounded.

Add in the weapons fire he heard, sounded like the boss had engaged with the slavers. Unslinging his shotgun, he charged up a shot from it as he advanced down the corridor, cloak re-engaging once again. Common mistake people made, charging up a shot registered as a weapon shot while cloaked, yet it wasn't programmed to take that into account if cloaking after charging a shot. Rather bizzare, but Jal didn't question it too much, giving the first slaver to turn the corner, a Batarian looking very well armed, a rather shocking taste of his own medicine. The red hot flechettes, overcharged as they were, tore through his armor and sent him reeling to the ground, and Jal paused, listening. No one yelling, besides the pained noises the Batarian was making, clutching at the flechettes in his chest, before drawing his M-11 and putting the man out of his misery. Shame, good bait was hard to come by, and the noises that fool was making would have been great.

Moving down the corridors, he ducked back, shots ringing out against the bulkhead. Seems he had found a manned hardpoint, turret firing another way as his boss came over his earpiece. "Jal, ran into that hardpoint too? Got us pinned, and they are guarding a manual override that's keeping the rest of this miserable band from earning their pay. Turret is hard mounted, but can't swivel beyond this hallway. Clear it out, yeah?"

"Sure boss, but this means hazard pay. Charging a hardpoint with quite a few bastards in it, and heavy ordinance, counts as hazard duty. Money back guarantee if I bite the bullet doing it though." Smirking, he poked his head out long enough to drop a tactical scan, sweeping the nest and picking out how many of them there was. Seven, five of them facing the main threat, the other two trying to keep the 'light armed quarian bastard' from getting close. Seems they caught wind of him causing trouble, but were not aware of his last trick. Pulling out his Kishock from its back holster, he started charging a round from it, the weapon shuddering as it primed one if its harpoon like spikes. Cloak engaging again, he poked his head and weapon out long enough to tag the one slaver, Human this time, in the gut, the high powered spike punching through the armor just beneath his heart and sending him reeling back, blood spurting and him screaming bloody murder, as the humans would say.

His partner glanced back, shocked, giving the Quarian a few seconds, all he would need. Cloak intact, he ducked forward, sprinting and vaulting the barricade, combat knife slamming into the gawking slaver's throat. He kept moving, dropping an inferno grenade as one of the slavers on the wall turned on him, unleashing point blank hell from his assault rifle. A few rounds slammed into his shields, but Jal was over the barricade again, hugging the ground as the grenade went off and incinerated the remaining slavers, frying the turret, and clearing out the problem. Picking himself up, he glanced at his boss as she vaulted the front of the barricade, undoing the manual override after the fire and smoke cleared. "Earned that hazard pay, Jal. Shame your not sticking around after this, but we ain't done yet. Rest of em are holed up in the cargo bay, with their cargo."

"Why not void the lot of them, be done with it?" The Asari looked at him, one of the Krogans snorting as he had suggested the same damn thing. Digging people with nothing left to lose out of a hard point was the kind of job that got a lot of people killed. But, as the Asari was about to mention, there was a very good reason beyond being nice and altruistic for not spacing the remaining slavers. "Simple, getting paid an extra bounty for keeping their cargo alive. Apparently Omega wants them after this. Besides that, we have the manpower to dig them out without killing the bonus."

Turning, Jal rolled his eyes, even if he could accept the reasoning. Extra pay was all fine and well, but it was about to get split between a lot less people after this was said and done. Ah well, a job was a job, and if Boss wanted to do the extra work, then he would have to pick up the slack. Moving out, he started making his way towards the cargo bay, passing a lot of corpses, both slaver and mercenary. Jal paused, finding the rookie's corpse from before, clutching an overheated rifle, but very much dead. Damn shame, that, seemed he had some potential, and that was it. All the consideration Jal gave the dead human rookie as he made it to the cargo bay, ducking a missile that hurtled into the open cargo doors, taking cover alongside several other mercenaries. "Well, if it isn't the Quarian? Mind spooking that heavy weapon nest? Been keeping us pinned down this whole damn time."

"Sure, I'll charge into another deathtrap just to spare you some effort. Just be ready to act when the nest is down, I'm only doing this once. Because it looks like you took enough missiles to the head already, mate." With that, he cloaked and, rather than go across the cargo bay as they began laying down covering fire, he went up into the walkways and automated crane rigs that were, thankfully, shut down right now. Crawling across, he got above the nest and dropped a grenade down, watching them go up in flames screaming. Swinging down, he threw trip mines towards each of the ways up into the nest, ignoring the smell that did make it through his helmet's filtration system. Setting in, he began picking off the slavers from behind, using his Kishock at this range. Of course, the shock of suddenly having a hollow spike in your back wasn't quite surpassed by the charging Batarian and Human mercenaries, and just like that, the last of the slavers were dealt with.

Well, all but two, and then they ran right into Jal's trip mines, and that was the last of the slavers. Smirking to himself, and surveying the damage, he observed the mercenaries cutting the slaves loose and informing them that they were being returned to Omega, with mixed response. Some happy to be out of slaver hands, others worried at what awaited them on that asteroid station. Jal'Werrall vas Vestal ignored them, approaching his boss as she walked in to survey the results, noting the slaves were indeed still alive and intact. "That's that, boss. I'll take my share when we reach Omega, and go my way from there. I'll stay in touch, if something juicy comes up. Old times sake."