1 Guest viewing this page
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Mosis Tosis
Raw

Mosis Tosis

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

"I want his head on a goddamn platter."

Orish's words were slurred, slipping from the side of a bloodied swollen mouth. The Salarian was pressing a dainty bar towel over the grisly wound that marred his once impeccable face, doing little to stop the bleeding as he paced through the yacht's lavish hallways. His Turian partner, strolling leisurely a few steps behind, could only roll his eyes. "Something tells me Luek won't be pleased if we start executing his esteemed party guests..." He said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'd never really liked Orish; the Salarian was an expert in the world of tech trade, and he couldn't have asked for a more efficient or intelligent business partner...but gods be damned, he was such a twat sometimes! Nathallin could only hope the night's events would knock some sense into the man. He wasn't counting on it.

"Fuck Luek!" Orish growled, wincing as bits of broken glass dug deeper into his tender flesh, his broken face offering up a fresh surge of dark green blood. "And fuck his fucking guests, too! 'Esteemed' my ass, that fucking human is nothing more than a hired thug! He had no right to hit me!"

"Well, maybe if you hadn't provoked him, you wouldn't have gotten hurt." Nathallin chided gently, in a tone he only reserved for small children and Orish. His condescension wasn't lost on his partner, who turned to glare at him, eyes full of spite. By then they had reached their destination, a simple metal door that denoted the entrance to the yacht's security room.

"He'll pay. I'm going to make sure of it." The Salarian's tone was definitive, as if challenging Nathallin to disagree. The older Turian didn't rise to the bait, only raising one eye ridge as he gestured to towards the door.

"After you, then. Just don't expect me to clean up your mess."

They probably looked quite the sight, barging into that tiny security room: Orish with his bloodstained clothes and marred face, with Nathallin following closely behind, still attempting to hide his amusement and regain an air of professionalism. Needless to say, every eye turned to greet them. Lonnie swiveled in his chair, looking (and feeling) somewhat guilty for no real reason at all. Abrend couldn't help but wince as she caught sight of her boss's new facial feature, covering her initial shock with an unconvincing cough. Even Ret glanced up from his virtual card games, twitching his mandibles as the battered Salarian entered and then straightening slightly in his chair when Nathallin appeared.

Orish didn't return any of their glances. He only had eyes for the two handcuffed humans seated in the middle of the small room. "Who's this then?" He snarled, waving a bloody hand in Roland's direction. "Is he with the other one? Another fucking thug? Should've figured all these fucking humans are working together..."

"What?" Abrend obviously was having difficulty processing everything. "Uh...no, no nothing like that." When Orish gave no sign that he'd even heard her, she turned to address Nathallin. "He's just some straggler I picked up in one of the lower hallways. Says he was looking he was looking for a bathroom. He doesn't seem too dangerous, but I figured it was better to be safe about it."

Nathallin nodded approvingly. "The less problems we have to deal with tonight, the better. The crowd near the bar was all riled up when I left the lounge. Understandable, I suppose, considering what they just saw. We'll need to get some men out there-"

"Way ahead of you, sir." Abrend smiled, obviously proud of her foresight. "I sent a couple of our reserve sentries to break up the crowd. Shouldn't be a problem."

"No, no, that'll just make things worse," Nathallin answered with a sigh. "This isn't your run of the mill mob. These are 'guests.' Rich pricks and entitled floozies. The last thing we want to do is send guys with guns in there to tell them what they can and can't do. Not to mention how pissed Luek's going to be when he sees us pushing his potential investors around." With another weary sigh, he reopened the door and took one step outside. "I'll go try to mitigate the damage. Abrend, you're with me. Lonnie, Ret, you stay here and keep an eye on everything, we don't want anymore surprises tonight."

"No." Orish was staring daggers down at Mark, but his low, dangerous voice had no trouble being heard. "Ret and Lonnie can go with you. I want to be alone to deal with this...trash." He punctuated his statement with a harsh kick Mark's shin. Ret and Lonnie shared uncertain glances, but otherwise didn't move, waiting for confirmation from Nathallin. Ourish might be their boss, but the grizzled old Turian was the one who usually gave the orders.

To his credit, Nathallin remained calm even as he asserted control over the situation. "Ret and Lonnie will stay here." He said, in a tone that brokered no argument. "I'm not leaving you alone with two prisoners, especially one that we know is dangerous. You can have your revenge, or whatever the hell you mean to have, but I'm not going to let you be stupid about it."

For a tense moment, the two Quantum bosses locked eyes, one set filled with fury, the other impossibly calm. Then Ourish finally broke his gaze with a frustrated scowl, waving his partner off. "Fine, whatever. As long as I get to take care of our business here." Nathallin and Abrend left the room, the former with a slow, knowing shake of his head. Left to his own devices, Ourish's smoldering stare turned back on Mark. "Go back to your business, you louts," He said, gesturing at Ret and Lonnie over his shoulder. "I'll handle this." The two reluctantly turned their attention back to other matters, occasionally sneaking glances out of the corner of their eyes.

Ourish leaned in close to Mark, towering over the seated human. A bit of blood dripped off his chin, splattering against the mercenary's breastplate. "Well, well, well, not so tough now, are we?" He leaned in even closer, bringing himself only inches away before spitting into Mark's face. "I'm going to enjoy this." He straightened, rolled up his sleeves, and analyzed his course of attack. And then he drove a backhand across Mark's face.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Tick
Raw
GM

Tick

Member Seen 9 yrs ago

>>Communications
[...]

...*>>"Photograph Request"
.....[RECEIVED 2675:110 GS; 10:55:99 GST]
To: DYNNAMIT3@GE.EM
From: BLUEGIRLHELP@OCE.OM
Subject: Photograph Request
You win a trophy made of eezo for the most obscure request I've seen.

It took a lot of digging through the extranet and scrambling the privacy of five people, but I believe I’ve got that photo you wanted. Colorful makeup, giant orange wig, “kiddie pool.” A rare kind of citizen snapped a shot of the man drowning with their omni-tool and later reported it to the police. Oddly enough, it wasn't in the local police department's records beyond mention, so it required finding the original photographer's information and an old attachment they had forgotten.

It's good; if you squint and use your imagination, you might be able to catch the paint drizzling off the face and polluting the pool as the dying man desperately tries to breathe. And the horrified faces nearby show up nicely.
Honestly, there's few pictures that show actual murder or death this effectively. One could even claim it's morbid and suggestive of mental illness if they happened to witness someone else cherish it and store it in their files.

You never said why you wanted this photo found, and better it stays that way.
I am cutting contact after this. Please don't take time away from your day to respond; I won't be here by then and the effort will be sadly wasted.

Blue
>>SEARCH HISTORY (0.250.16.254.1) [2676:134 GS; 18:81:65 GST]
>> "Lynessa R'myr"
1,570,026,171,002 RESULTS in 5 minutes:
[...]
*R'myr Security Corporation: Contact Us (ex.rsc.ths/contact)
*R'myr Security Corporation: The Staff (ex.rsc.ths/about/leaders)
*Lynessa Raymer - Single Loving Mother of Three (ex.powermomsonnet.ca)
*Merc. Dog Watchman of the universe - The true Story of nova
>>'...Author: number1...Genre: Autobiography...Cast: Marianna R'myr, Roland Tiers...'
[...]


[COMPOSE NEW MESSAGE]
To: NOVA;
From: DONOTREPLYTOTHISEMAIL@TYRUS.NOVA;
Subject: A Fanfiction?


Okay guys, while it’s true that I plan to tranquilize Kosso at an undecided date and want to grow human fuzz on my faceplate, sharing all this info with the extranet or somebody on the extranet is bad form. That doesn’t even give me a fair shot at my bucket list.

So, who's responsible for this?:


This isn’t one of you selling information on Nova or the Tyrus for some extra on the side, right? We’re no where near important or old enough to get a fanfiction about ourselves.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Legion X51
Raw
Avatar of Legion X51

Legion X51 Cap'n Fluff

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

In between listening to her mother talk about how lonely life had been on Thessia, Marianna swiped a glance at the crowd that had now gathered around the bar. 'Hrm. Looks like some people from our little team have gotten themselves in a spot of trouble.' she thought to herself. Looking about the place nonchalantly from her vantage point on the second floor near the observation windows, Marianna could notice that Roland was no longer in the room. 'Huh. That's odd - I wonder where he's managed to sneak off to.' Her questions were not exactly answered by the incoming two guards with guns into the main hall. Out of the corner of her eye, Marianna saw her mother tense up slightly, setting down her glass of wine with one hand and her other hand straying towards her pistol that she carried at all times in self-defence. Knowing precisely what was going on in Lynessa's head, Marianna put her hand on her mother's shoulder and whispered "Don't even think about it. These guards are likely here to restore order - you open fire on these guys and-"

"Shut up, Marianna. I wasn't going to open fire, I was reaching for my gun to make sure it's there if something 'does' go down, is that clear?" Marianna expected the response long before Lynessa had finished the sentence. Her mother was lying through her teeth, and was doing a fine job of it too - it was a shame that lying to your daughter was not an easy thing to do. Marianna released her mother's shoulder, before turning back to look out of the window and view the majesty of the storm that was, for all intents and purposes, barely even affecting the ship. Hanar certainly knew how to build ships, even if they were sometimes 'big stupid jellyfish' as the humans sometimes derisively referred to them. Not to one's... well, Hanar didn't have 'faces' per se, but the metaphor would have to do. Marianna could still see Lynessa shifting uneasily out of the corner of her eye. "You're making it slightly obvious you dislike the guards' presence, mother. Look back out of the window if you have to. I need to make conversation with others about the boat."

"You do that. I'll just be standing here, lonely as ever..." Lynessa sighed wistfully. "If only I had another person in my life again..." With that, Marianna walked over to where a Turian was sitting at a table, looking at a spreadsheet on his omni-tool. He looked up at Marianna when she walked over and nodded politely to her. She gestured to the chair opposite. "Is this seat... occupied?"

The Turian shook his head. He seemed quite approachable - in fact, Marianna thought he was reasonably good-looking for a Turian, if that was at all possible. She took her seat and set down her glass upon the table. At the sound of the glass clinking on the metallic surface of the table, the Turian looked up from his omni-tool, switching it off. "Another investor, I take it?" He extended his hand for Marianna to shake, which she proceeded to co-operate with. The turian's voice was characteristically deep, and very well-spoken, as was the norm with Turian businessmen of this calibre. Not just anyone made their millions in the galactic trades, after all.
"Yes, you could say that. Marianna R'myr." She withdrew her hand. "I'm here on behalf of R'myr Security Corporation."
"Ahaha, excellent. I have had many dealings with your company. You're the Matron's daughter, aren't you? Oh." He clapped his hand to his mouth. "I do apologise for not introducing myself. I am Koros Thatian, I'm also a security man: Thatian Security Services, we're a contractor for Elanus Risk Control. ERCS often hires us out when it comes to major events and public speeches."
Marianna nodded - she'd heard of Thatian. He was not a man to be crossed, by all accounts. "Yes, I do believe I've heard of Thatian Security. You were the security team when Dr Gerstmann was giving that speech regarding... Dark energy and dark matter, was it?"
Thatian nodded. "Indeed. And as a matter of fact, the 'Gerstmann job' was our first independent dealing outside of ERCS - Dr Gerstmann had heard of us with regards to security, and in fact, when we were still fully sub-contracted by ERCS, we had acted as security during another of his lectures. It is truly something to be said about the galaxy, however, when a scientist giving a lecture requires armed guards, does it not?" Thatian took a sip of his drink. "So, how can I help you, Miss R'myr?"

Marianna heard the beep of an incoming message and opened her omni-tool. "Are you perhaps interested in a high-level task?"

Thatian leaned forward intently. "You have my undivided attention. Go on."

Marianna scanned her omni-tool for the new message - there it was, a job that RSC needed doing in the near future - Marianna wasn't sure if her mother had just made it up or if it was a legitimate job, but she appreciated the ammunition. Despite the hostile breakaway Marianna's email had left, Lynessa still cared about her daughter. "Well, here we have one for you. One of the Republics is currently undergoing an election, and one of the candidates is giving a speech. RSC was tasked with the job, but we are more than willing to sub-contract it out to you-"

"What will we need to do, and what is the salary. This is the important information."

Marianna took Thatian's interruption in her stride. "You are to act both as security guards for the speech that Matriarch Arminis is giving, and also as security for her skycar motorcade as it proceeds towards the speech site. The pay is 10.5 million credits."

Thatian's eyes lit up. "Well, then. And how much of that will be given to us?"

Marianna feigned thought. "About 85%."

Thatian leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. "Hrm... It's a very high-profile job. Is it at all possible to push for 90%?"

Marianna really did think this time. 90% was not usual when it came to RSC sub-contracts - 85% was usually the figure, and less if the job was particularly dull and uninteresting. She'd seen one escort job go for 50%, which was comparatively low. "90% is quite a considerable amount. However, I am sure that circumstances will permit it."

"Excellent." Thatian extended his hand and shook to seal the deal. Marianna sat back in her chair and shut off her omni-tool, whilst the Turian reached for his glass. "Some very strange goings on at this party, don't you think? Bar scuffles, armed guards being called in to solve the problem..." Thatian jerked his head over towards the bar area. "Not exactly the most promising sight for an investor such as you or I, don't you agree?"
Marianna giggled slightly and took another sip of wine. "No, I have to say that it does make a rather poor impression on a woman when her host is using a Lancer to break up a scuffle. Though I have seen worse."
Thatian chuckled. "Oh? Have any good examples that spring to mind?"
Mari nodded. "One particular meeting in the Citadel Wards I had with a Volus proved rather interesting. He and I had sealed the deal, and much as we are now, we were chatting away, and all of a sudden, we hear this loud bang come from in the direction of the bar. We look over and this human that had... well, apparently complained slightly too loudly about the quality of the alcohol being served had just been shot by the bartender-"
"Good heavens!" Thatian cried out, almost in disbelief. "You cannot be serious!"
Marianna grinned. "I am being very serious - furthermore, the human, who was only injured," Marianna saw the look of realisation on the Turian's face, "no, he wasn't killed, the human kept on shouting about 'oh, you f***ing aliens, strutting around here like you think you own the bloody place'..."
"I know that reaction well." Thatian chuckled.
"Yes, well, this bartender evidently wasn't having any of it, so he called up C-Sec, and the human ended up behind bars whilst he sobered up and the nice little hole in his shoulder healed. Anyway, that was one of the more interesting stories I have. I have a more sordid one, if you'd like to hear that."
Thatian gave a roguish wink. "You've piqued my interest."
Marianna smiled. "Well, again it is in the Citadel Wards, one of the more... run-down areas. It was a meeting between myself and a human businessman, he was in the... armaments business, Rosenkov Industries, I believe. Anyhow, we're discussing a shipment of arms and the price in a secluded back alley when we hear this... well, we could hear two people in the throes of passion, let's put it that way. So we start looking around for the source of this noise and we find two humans in another alleyway, well, in the midst of whatever it is they're doing."
Thatian shook his head. "The nerve... It sounds like something you'd hear in a crime story, doesn't it..."
"Oh, but it gets worse. This human businessman ("I think I can see where this is going")... Well, he suggested to me that he could knock off 15% of the price if... oh, this is actually embarrassing, I'm so sorry." Marianna blushed slightly. "Well he suggested that he could knock off 15% of the shipment price if we replicated what the humans were doing."
Thatian smiled. "And did you?"
Marianna hesitated. "He was a very good-looking man, Slavic origin... It's a certain area on Earth with a certain facial structure. And... well, I was young and hot-headed. Yes, I gave in."
Thatian took a sip of his drink. "You were a Maiden - still are, in fact, I believe. From what I know of your race, that sort of activity is reasonably normal for your age."
Marianna shrugged. "I don't know if I regret it or not. Not really, I suppose."
"You shouldn't. You're young, youthful and full of energy and vigour. Enjoy it. Live life to the full." Thatian sighed. "If only I were youthful again. I'm 47, for goodness' sake, what have I done with my life?"
"Set up a very successful security company?" Marianna smiled.
Thatian nodded. "I'll drink to that." They raised their glasses.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Mosis Tosis
Raw

Mosis Tosis

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

A hurried Turian in a servant's uniform barely had time to frantically mop up the pool of dark green blood that Ourish had left to congeal on the lounge floor before two Quantum guards pushed themselves into the chattering crowd surrounding the bar. The patrons were practically in an uproar about Mark's outburst, most of them loudly and drunkenly telling their friends their version of the events, the story steadily growing more and more legendary. "Racially motivated." Declared one, "Just a human, jealous of a more established race. You know how envious they can get. And violent, too." Another claimed that it was "a bunch of drunkards, must have wandered in somehow at the port. There's simply no way Luek would dare invite such aggressive riff-raff aboard his own precious yacht." One particularly intoxicated even went so far as to claim it was a botched assassination attempt, though that was met with more eye rolls than proper attention.

The two Quantum guards, despite the pistols holstered at their sides and the assault rifles slung across their backs, had to push to the middle of the crowd and yell to make their presence known. "If I might have your attention, please! We apologize for the incident that has just occurred, but we assure you that any and all threat to the guests of this party has been neutralized. We would ask that you all disperse from the area while we investigate the matter. Thank you for your cooperation."

The crowd was not, in fact, cooperating. As soon as the guard had spoken, the mob of guests had exploded into noise again, even louder than before.

"So there was a threat? What good are you slackwits? We could've been killed! I was in danger!"

"I'm not going anywhere! I am an esteemed guest of this party, and I refuse to be herded like around by the likes of you!"

"Does this mean the bar is closed?!"

The guard who had made the announcement, a young, boyish-looking Turian, began to flare his mandibles nervously as the crowd continued to seethe around him, unheeding. "Uh....boss? You might want to get down here, quick."

Elsewhere, Nathallin sighed as he strode through empty corridors towards the lounge. "Yeah, on my way. Just try not to fuck it up any worse than it already is."
Kosso had never heard Luek laugh, so the deep, echoing rumble of a sound nearly made him jump. He must have had one hell of a translator program; Kosso wasn't sure he'd ever heard a Hanar show a sign of amusement so blatant as that. "So it is indeed true what they say about your kind, Ms. Piers," he intoned, still chuckling slightly, "you are always 'reaching for the stars.'"

For a moment, Kosso was panic-stricken. He didn't know much about tech, but even he could tell how fantastical the inventions that Tanya had outlined were. A shield that recharged using the kinetic energy of gunfire? An omni-tool that automatically downloaded and decrypted nearby communications? It sounded more than just amazing...it sounded downright unbelieveable.

But Tanya seemed to have the right of it: maybe she really had these ideas locked up inside her head, or maybe they were just pipe dreams. Either way, it didn't matter. Luek was focused only on what he'd always been focused on: the potential profit. "An armor design like that could be quite the hot seller, have no doubt. However, it could take you years to get through all the required safety tests and patent requests before you can actually start to trade. And that omni-tool design, no matter how useful, will be mired in legal processes for decades before it sees the light of day, if it ever does. People do care so much about their precious privacy. It is a long, costly journey ahead of you, my friend." He paused for a moment, suddenly coy. "Unless, of course, you knew someone with both money to spare and a unique network of contacts."

Kosso figured it was about time that they took the plunge. "We're here because we know that if we intend to make money in this galaxy, you're the best man to ask for help. Your trade prowess is legendary, to say the least. The other guests here may intend to invest in Kahje, but we are not so short-sighted, and we know you aren't either. Kahje is just a stepping stone. We have the galactic market in our sights."

Luek's visage was as unreadable as ever, but his voice had a low, rising edge that Kosso thought might be desire. "A woman after this one's own gall-sack." He said jovially, looking at Tanya. "It seems as if you already have a deal in mind."

"An initial investment into your Kahje project, in return for trade and political connections when our new products reach Alpha. We believe in Kahje; it's obvious you've got a good thing going here. With the continued return profits from initial investment, we can move our product line forward. And if you help us get those products on the market, then it will be our turn to return profits to you. A long-term partnership, and one that will mean billions of credits for all of us, if we play our cards right."

Luek's response was immediately interrupted by a great clamor from below. Kosso did his best to casually glance at the crowd gathered at the bar below, his heart beating in his throat. Who had fucked up this time? But it was a stranger that was led away in handcuffs this time around, a human in body armor. The crowd was practically in an uproar, huddled around an injured Salarian who wasted no time in pushing their helping hands away and marching off after his assailant.

Luek showed no sign of emotion, the florescent lights beneath his skin shifting serenely, unagitated. But Kosso could sense something there, growing as swift and as strong as the Kahjean storm that raged outside. It chilled him, even after all these years, all the memories he'd relived and convinced himself were bearable. Luek was angry.

Yet his tone was measured as always when he spoke again. "Perhaps matters such as this would be better discussed in a...quieter...environment. Would you care to accompany me to my study?" He gestured past his guards at a nearby hallway, leading deeper into the bowels of the ship.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Dervish
Raw
Avatar of Dervish

Dervish Let's get volatile

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Well, that was fucking weird and somewhat unnerving. Tanya had never heard a hanar make a sound like that before, and if she knew better (she didn’t), she could have sworn it sounded something like a rumbling laugh. Assuming anything with aliens, even with the universal translators, was a recipe for disaster. Tanya kept her body still, as keeping a straight face was one of her strong suits that came with the territory of keeping emotions to herself, but she allowed herself a slow blink. She wasn’t sure what the hell to expect going into this, but that wasn’t it.

She recovered quickly. “Ambition is something all successful humans have, Mr. Luek. I just so happen to reach a bit further than most.” She said confidently, although she sensed a tenseness from Kosso. Perhaps she should have talked to him about what she was going to propose beforehand; ironically, it didn’t seem to be important at the time, but now, trying to convince a dangerous crime lord of Tanya’s proposition, catching her partner off guard instead of making the two of them appear to be on the same page was a stupid risk she should have caught. Damn it, Tanya. You’re smarter than that. she mentally scolded herself behind a tight smile.

"An armor design like that could be quite the hot seller, have no doubt. However, it could take you years to get through all the required safety tests and patent requests before you can actually start to trade. And that omni-tool design, no matter how useful, will be mired in legal processes for decades before it sees the light of day, if it ever does. People do care so much about their precious privacy. It is a long, costly journey ahead of you, my friend." Luek replied. "Unless, of course, you knew someone with both money to spare and a unique network of contacts."

It was impossible to tell, but did she detect anticipation in the hanar’s voice? Goddamn, hanar were infuriating. They gave elcor a run for their money for the ultimate poker face.

Before Tanya could respond, Kosso dove in, perhaps to mitigate a potential disaster. Was it that he didn’t trust Tanya to keep her shit straight, or that she was veering off a safe path? Suddenly, a pang of anxiety filled her. Not that she worried about her identity or cover being blown, but for being outright dismissed by the hanar, thus rendering the safe inaccessible. She certainly didn’t want to fight through a large, top credit security contingent with no shields and a formal dress. Still, Kosso wasn’t half bad at this, although she wondered if flattery worked on the hanar. Whether or not that was a racial thing remained to be seen, but she had to trust the guy who grew up surrounded by the infuriatingly polite bioluminescent sea creatures. He seemed to be making some headway with Luek, in any case.

Suddenly, a loud commotion came from below the balcony. Tanya joined the others hurrying to the edge, the crowd below riled up something fierce over some human who was detained after clearly clocking the shit out of some salarian, which wasn’t a sight you saw every day. Salarians weren’t exactly powerhouses; Tanya was pretty certain even a horribly out of shape human would give most salarians a good run for their money in the physicality department. She feigned distain while privately, she was terribly amused. Nothing spiced up a stuffy rich person party like a good old fashion bar fight, even if they set race relations back ten years. It was totally worth it.
Luek seemed less than interested or bothered by the jackwad disrupting his event, but conceded that they should move to a more private setting. They were in business. Tanya grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter and subtly gave cheers to the jackass who probably lost his company any future contracts for Luek, or any of the guests at the party. He just did Nova a huge favour.

Kosso and Tanya were shuffled into a fairly decadent study with skylights, the storm raging overhead. However, rain never met the glass due to a mass effect barrier, which was probably a good thing, given how even a small leak would have trashed a lot of seemingly delicate and priceless artifact in the sizable, impressive room that must have acted as Luek’s own private domain to placate guests. If there was any indication of the hanar’s wealth that wasn’t evidenced by the massive ship, this room was surely the crown jewel.

‘Veronica’ decided Luek probably needed something to work with that wasn’t smoke being blown up his ass. She leaned back comfortably into the impossibly plush, high backed crimson seat drink in hand. “Allow me to explain the theory, and technology, behind the shielding capacitors I tantalized earlier. As you know, in any state of matter, be it a liquid, gas, plasma or solid, it is made up of molecules that in three of those instances, are freely moving, and when heat or friction is applied to them, the molecules become excited, charged. If I were to take this glass of champagne, stick it over a fire, within a few minutes it would begin to boil and the liquid would be very mobile and kinetic before it evaporated into a gas form, as you know.

“Now, kinetic barriers work in a very similar fashion, where the ions are contained by a negative mass effect field that cannot be penetrated by high-velocity objects, so long as the capacitors aren’t overloaded when the ions become too ‘excited’, which breaks the concentration of molecules that make up the barrier as technological limitations don't allow the energy anywhere to go, so it shatters, no longer contained. Now, this is where one begs the question of if all of these molecules are becoming excited and energized by the friction caused by say a gunshot, why is there nothing to contain or at least dissipate the built up and subsequent overcharge of energy? We know that the power source is unaffected, as the shields replenish themselves as soon as the systems reboot and it is able to build enough of a charge to fill the capacitor once more. All in all, it’s a waste of potentially useful energy.

“Where this gets exciting is as such; with a specific device that ‘piggy-backs’ onto a shield generator, to use a rather crude human idiom, to capture and contain the energy that’s being expended and overloading the shielding capacitor, it could prevent the overloading effect by storing the excess energy, kind of like how a water tower stores excess production water in a distribution system during low usage so it’s ready as soon as the demand calls for it. Now, we know that if you run a magnet repeatedly through a copper coil, it generates energy, correct? What I am developing is very similar in principle to that, where the excess energy magnet analogue is being passed through the copper coil analog and ends up producing more energy, which is fed directly back into the shield generator. In effect, the more the shield gets excited, the more energy it produces while bleeding off the sudden surge that causes the overload. With enough refinement and finding, I’m confident I can make this not only a reality, but something that could be modified to fit onto any existing shielding platform on the market. And with developments and improvement in the technology, it may be able to withstand the full effect of a tech overload, which as you most likely are aware, have been often the so-called game changer in a fire fight. I aim to make this a thing of the past, and any customer using my product, with your name attached to it, will have massive reductions in personnel and equipment losses for a competitive price. At the risk of sounding arrogant,” she came to a conclusion, a confident smile forming on her lips. “This could be the biggest revolution in defensive technology since mass effect technology was perfected.”

Tanya gave Kosso a glance next to her with a raised eyebrow and took a delicate sip from the glass. She regarded Luek for a moment before asking. "Does this seem like something that perhaps might be of interest you?" she asked with a smile.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Tick
Raw
GM

Tick

Member Seen 9 yrs ago

(Collab written by Grif of Hearts, Tick, Voltaire, and Voltin.)

Roland groaned as he rolled over and sat up on the floor. Being tossed by the turian as he was had left a few parts sorer than anyone use to combat would willingly admit. Still, she was rather kind enough not to shoot him, and seemed like genuine enough as a person, even if she was technically his enemy. Even better, it seemed that he was dropped off in the security room; one of the top priorities in the mission, if he wasn't mistaken. Just my luck... He thought before snickering to himself.

He made a brief survey of the room, and before he could so much as glance at one of the monitors behind him, the door burst open, and another human man was dumped just as harshly as he was not too long ago. "Couldn't find the bathroom too, eh?" Roland wise-cracked in a hushed tone, "Don't worry; happens to the best of us it seems."

Mark, somewhat blearily, appraised his 'cell' mate for moment. The man looked just like any of the other guests that he'd seen so far, which meant he wasn't likely to be of any help in the current situation. He gave the man a shrug and replied gruffly,
"If by 'couldn't find the bathroom' you mean, 'broke somebody's face,' then yeah. I couldn't find the bathroom."

Despite the circumstances, it seemed like his best option to build a rapport with the incarcerated, heavily-armored man. "The name's Arch, Archie Prason. I'd shake your hand, but, as you can see-" he slightly raised his cuffed hands behind him, "-we're in the same boat he-"

"After you, then. Just don't expect me to clean up your mess."

The door to the security room had opened, and the turian's voice had echoed through before Roland could finish his statement. Something in him just made him want to pale with how pissed the salarian looked, and how impeccably calm his partner looked as they entered the room.

Mark glanced up at the two newcomers and immediately recognized them as being his bar neighbors. The severity of his predicament wasn't lost on him as he realized just who it was he had assaulted and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Oh, perfect," he grumbled, "here we go."

Roland could only feel his stomach drop even further as the salarian pointed a blood stained finger at him (which ended with flecks of blood being splattered on his nice suit), an demanded to know who he was. And as if to drive the point home that Roland should be wary of the angry man in front of him, the normally cocky Abrend, who had been the one to bring him in and state that she would kill him without so much as a scruple, stuttered and answered instead to the calmer of the two.

As he began to feel that his presence was then being ignored, he simply watched as the turian took control of the situation and as the salarian simply let his anger seethe further. From what he gathered from all this was: "his fellow human trash" (a comment that did not go unnoticed) was why the salarian was as blood covered as he was -- something Roland had found himself mentally congratulating the man for -- after the patrons at the bar got riled up. It was also the reason why the salarian was now going to beat the shit out of the bound human next to him.

Being fully armored, Mark had hardly noticed when the irate salarian had kicked his shin. But he did notice a few other things as Orish and his turian partner butted heads over how to proceed. While the salarian may be one of the leaders of these Quantum folks, he clearly wasn't in control. Marks eyes darted between the mercs as orders were issued by both leaders, the turian eventually getting his way. Between the two he obviously garnered more respect. Orish probably just ran the tech and logistics side of their little posse. This could be useful if Mark played it right.

With the decisions made, the turian left Mark and his new buddy alone with Orish and two other mercs who weren't exactly comfortable with their officer's behavior. Not that they were gonna do anything about it. The salarian advanced threateningly, spouting off some cliche villain quips as he rolled up his sleeves. As the salarian's hand started to rise, Mark replied,
"Is this when you give me my phone call? Agh!"

Mark's head jerked to the side as the fist cracked against it, the skin of his temple visibly reddened. Wincing, he shook his head to clear the ringing in his ear.
"Whew. Not bad, but my head is still kind of fuzzy from the booze so you're gonna have to try a little harder if you want me to really feel it. Ow!"

The salarian's fist cracked against Mark's face again, this time splitting the skin at the edge of his brow.
"How was that one!" Orish shouted, "was that up to your standards you insignificant worm!"

Mark righted himself, having been forced to lean to the side a bit from the force of the blow. A drop of blood rolled down the side of his face as he nodded.
"That one was definitely better. I kind of felt the sting that time."

Orish hauled his fist back in preparation for another strike, when suddenly,

"Hey now, buddy," Roland interjected with what little nerve he had as the bloodied salarian began his approach. "Let's not do anything rash, okay? He's a guest here, as am I; I'm sure we both have some... 'friends', let's say, that could make your life pretty miserable if you touch either of us. I'm sure you don't want that, just as much as my drunk and bound companion here wants to be beat. The least you could do is un-cuff him an let him fight back; fair and square." Roland was feeling numb as he spoke his final words. Honestly, what sort of bravado would make him speak so defiantly to someone who could right then and there beat the shit out of him without repercussion?Taking a brief glance at the hagered man next to him, he knew without a doubt as to why he spoke as he did; it was that same sense of false justice that he believed in when he became a policeman.

"What's your name, trash?" Were Orish's first words to him. "Roland, Roland Teirs," he proclaimed without hesitation, wincing only when his error finally caught up to the rest of his thought process. "Well, Roland, I'm sure you would be delighted to take the hit for your 'buddy' there, wouldn't you?" he asked, rather rhetorically, as he delivered the first kick, right to Roland's gut.

Mark's brows furrowed as he glanced over at the other captive. Hadn't the man told him just a minute ago that his name was 'Archie' or some shit? Admittedly, Roland sounded way better. But then why hadn't he called himself that in the first place? In Mark's experience, multiple names meant espionage. Maybe this suit could be useful after all.

"Hey," he said, getting the salarian's attention again, "you better take it easy on that guy otherwise he's gonna lawyer up. And I don't think your boss would be too happy about having to pay up for your stupid decisions. Besides, it's not his fault you're an ugly piece of shit."

"Shut up!" Orish shouted as he backhanded Mark again.

"Excuse me sir. I really don't think-" the merc Lonnie ventured before getting cut off. Orish rounded on him,
"You're not getting paid to think! You're getting paid to sit there and watch the damn security footage so do that before I have you thrown off the ship!"

Lonnie quickly turned back to his screens while Orish refocused on Mark.
"As you can see, I'm in command here, not Nathallin! So I'll do as a I damn well please got it!"

Mark feigned surprise.
"Oh, you're in charge... Can you tell one of those guys to get me a drink?"

The frustrated salarian replied with another backhand.

Well, Mark thought, if nothing else, at least I can mark 'drive someone literally insane with rage' off my bucket list.

~


Tzvi’s feet skimmed the ground as she skirted about the halls, aligning her path with the map Kosso had displayed before. The soft padding of every step rung in her ears, but it didn’t echo in the thin hallways. Working quick and quietly was how Tzvi had crawled her way through the past two years, and it was getting better. Amateur hour to a number of the team, but better by two years of self-taught trial and error.

This was largely pointless with Kygg who probably didn’t have a quiet bone in his body. His shoes, black leather things a little too large for his own feet, slapped against the floor of the boat with the subtlety and grace of a Mantis sniper rifle. Kygg liked to think he was trying to play along with the little game of hide and seek with the guards but really he was just impatient. Speed over stealth.

The dark mask twitched between the omni-tool’s map, the hallway ahead...and the hallway behind. Tzvi was still waiting for the moment that a guard screamed at them and Kygg tore out their neck with tooth and claw, or that he dramatically announced why the two of them were actually scuttling within the guards’ and boss’s territory, or when nothing but an empty corridor stood behind her. The last was the worst, because then the quarian couldn’t even assess the damage the vorcha was doing, and it was the most impossible thing to prevent.

In the Kygg watch, a curt glance to the map almost missed the blip steadily floating toward them. It took a second one to actually process it. “...Guards.”

It wasn’t until the louder tread of guards and faint remnants of an exasperated sigh reached them that Tzvi was pushing backward for the closest turn. Patting Kygg’s shoulder and panickedly gesturing in the right direction and trying to get him to turn and move through some quantity of prodding, shoving, and pleading. Despite her attempts to push him into the side corridor, Kygg froze in place with his feet rooted firmly to the ground. Tzvi wondered if he was planning some sort of jump on the upcoming guests, or if reverse psychology made him stop and stand there with a disturbed look upon his face.

“How many’ah?” asked Kygg.

“Back-back-back, go!”

“That’s'ah not an answ-”

Tzvi grabbed him, dragging him along with her. While he resisted for a moment, Kygg quickly matched her speed and followed her footsteps. Tzvi made for another turn when it was clear no guards were that way that second, hearing a short remark from a female voice with the clear flanging of a turian. Something to reassure the other. All Tzvi could catch was that something was going on at the bar. Lucky, less guards hovering the floors to question their validity.

Her helmet peeped from the corner after the map’s dot was farther off and the quiet settled in. One hand reached out and lightly touched Kygg’s shoulder.

“Okay...we’re almost there.” Tzvi’s voice strengthened as the panic faded and the resolve grew back. No red flags yet, things were smooth and Kygg hadn’t killed anyone yet.

Two dots of light hid in the security room. Their faked instructions were to report to the bridge, but the hallway was a maze that was very easy for a couple of weak-brained lowlifes to get lost in. Tzvi liked the idea that the guards, barely above her level, would somehow think like the rich did. It happened.

There was a coming glimpse of a voice she knew. Tzvi thought for a long moment.

...’The bodyguard?’ He got in trouble this fast? Was Nova tattering others’ patience that quick? Did she peg a guy too easy that he couldn’t wait for them to screw up?

The loud smack of a fist snapped from the security room. Something was wrong. And they hadn’t even entered their first target.

Kygg’s ears pricked up at the sound just as quickly. It was a single strike, not a series of them. It wasn’t a fight so much as an attack on an individual. But who? This was a party, not a Blood Pack vorcha camp. Immediately his mind jumped to the Nova crew, lurking on the idea that one of them had gotten sloppy and gotten caught. Kygg hoped that Nova was better than that but knew anything was possible.

Tzvi’s thin frame leaned toward the doorway to sneak a glance, followed by a creeping glance by her vorcha companion.

Roland. What?

’Agh, Roland. The mess you’ve made..’ they thought in unison. Kygg did not do so in as many words.

The white orbs of Tzvi’s mask stared at Roland like her own tombstone. The medic was recoiling in pain and cuffed. She pressed her lips tight. How was he going to escape? A busted cover wasn’t an option, and there were two - three - trigger-happy alarms watching. Leaving the partner behind to solve their own failings was the traditional solution...What was Roland's solution going to be? Whatever his plan had been ended him up here. Getting roughed up by security with his hands locked behind his back.

Not giving in to the brutish salarian, Kygg thought. In doubt, buy time. Roland couldn’t know that Kygg and Tzvi were mere feet away but they had to hope that he had the common sense to keep the salarian busy.

After too long, the quarian’s body angled toward the direction of Roland’s gaze to see the salarian hunching over the bodyguard from before, and worse for wear. Shining a smug apathy from his bloodied face to the fist that decided how bad it was before the guard was let off - if he was let off at all. Tzvi mentally scoffed. That attitude killed Sisel, and would have killed Tzvi if she hadn’t dropped it quick. This guy had a fatal authority problem. Or poisonous pride.

’Too easy a mark.’ She decided. At least his omni-tool was still accessible, along with one of the two guards. That would open up a whole wealth of opportunities.

“What are you doing here?”

The biting, booming shout from the closest guard snapped the pair to a stiff attention. Tzvi hung her head low in degrading respect and hurriedly composed herself, an act which was surprisingly well mimicked by Kygg. The words came clear and clean from the quarian, "Pardon, sir, for the interruption to your important work. There was an incident in the rooms for our staff, and we were instructed to report to the bridge on a classified security matter. We find ourselves lost, how-"

"I never ordered any staff to report to the bridge," he hissed. 'A boss of Quantum,' the hacker regrettably, painfully realized. Tzvi didn't touch Luek's devices, it was unnecessarily risky, so she just sent a one-way email to the grunts of Quantum from what was supposedly a captain of theirs.

The salarian's eyes knifed through Tzvi's faceplate, and her muscles grew sore from the way she crunched them. His full attention had switched to her and Kygg.

"No, you didn't, sir," '- And you didn't see the email none of you sent, either - ' "A different authority of your rank did. My deepest apologies, I assumed you were aware."

"It was Nathallin'ah," blurted out Kygg. Tzvi twitched, catching herself last-second from raising her head with the interjection. He corrected himself by repeating "Captain Nathallin... sir. He requested our assistance immediately at the bridge of the ship. Particularly important matters, I can assure you. Directly from the man himself, sir."

Tzvi slowly exhaled in relief, only for realisation to kick in and turn it to an expression of raw surprise . Kygg managed to cut the hiss and fix the line like a proper, polite servant speaking to superiors. It sounded articulate, not just by a vorcha's standards. She hadn’t known the hiss was something Kygg could cut or that Kygg knew what the word "particularly" meant. Altogether, it didn’t sound like something from the lips of a vorcha - and that was how everyone wanted it.
In truth, she didn’t know the other boss’s name, or if Kygg did, but she was near convinced. And Orish completely.

It was enough to distract Orish. Kygg watched as the salarian's fist clench and his suspicion warped into a scowl. Why had Nathallin not ran this by him sooner? Unless the info was personal to Luek nothing got through this ship without passing directly to him first. Now he was letting hopeless degenerates through his watch and to the bridge? It was a breach of trust of the highest degree.

"I'm going to get Nathallin's word on this. That bastard can't keep me in the dark on things like this," replied Orish, bringing up his omni-tool and scrolling through his contacts on the Quantum channel. He quickly found Captain Nathallin's name and brought the omni-communicator to his ear.

Tzvi didn’t break her head from jerking up that time. Her right thumb began to take turns pressing hard on each of the other two fingers. Alarm rewound her muscles tight and frustration ground her teeth together. The boss was pushing his luck and straining their cover. And doing increasingly well blocking them from getting their job done.
’No, you're not.’

The head perking up was turned into an excuse. “That must be the kitchen-staff,” Tzvi loudly whispered to herself. A good employee hurries to whatever development is reported to their omni-tool. There wasn’t time to hack his omni-tool, thanks to the chance he actually protected it half-decently or it’s download speed was dead slow. Tzvi promptly went to a program that would block close-range communications. Almost entirely useless, and it’d block the team just as much as the anger-management case in front of her, but it’d have to do here.

Orish shook his communicator like someone finding the last bean in a tin can, as the quarian hid her work and replaced it with the appropriate screen. Full of staff notices she hadn't checked. Tzvi's computer sat by her side when the salarian peered down at his own, thinking that a good, long, hard stare at the orange light would coerce it to chirp a response from his peer. There was a smile of satisfaction as he struggled, more flustered and furious the more nothing happened.

Orish snorted. The small nostrils flared, and the several thin creases cut into his gray face and cracked the drier, dull green arms of blood. Tzvi waited for him to rip the computer off his arm and slam it against the wall. Disappointingly, it didn't happen.

He threw his arm down with a chain of slurred mutters. " - piece of shit doesn't even answer.."

Orish switched gears and crawled into spitting range of the hospitality service skipping work at the fundraising party. "Why do caterers assigned to the most basic, unskilled tasks belong in the bridge, not catering in the main room? What information's so important that you're allowed to leave your jobs?"

Tzvi carefully watched the agitated man. She began slowly, "Sir, I'm sorry, but that's classified information-"
"Classified information!?" Orish sputtered in rage, almost incomprehensible on top of the bashed jaw. He honed in on the girl, frozen still, eyes steady on her "boss." A creeping itch slithered through Tzvi's skin as the screwed up, mad and broken face hovered inches from her, and blood tainted the smell of the air sucked through her filter. Too close. He was too close.
"We are permitted to inform no one other than the one official-"

"'At the damn bridge,'" came a mock, high-pitched whine, akin to an insect zipping past the ear.

A fist headed toward a faceplate, a violent shove stumbled her to the floor. Flash images shot into her mind haphazardly and without end as the low-ranked "employee" stayed rooted where she stood. He could do anything and get away with it. Tzvi shifted unsteadily in her place and tightened her jaw. Her thumb began to press on her fingers.

"'Captain Nathallin' has as much authority to know as I do, you can't 'classify' information to hide it from me, you small-brained runt."

"It's not your - " the words impatiently snapped after Orish before Tzvi realized her slip, crude and shaking. Tzvi hastily tried to brush away the fumble and smooth her speech, "uh..the - The specific matter at h-and is - too sensitive. For further disclosure."

A crazed wide-eyed stare laid hard on Tzvi for a suffocating period of time. He saw the momentary lapse in submission threatening his rank more than the news rejecting it. He slowly reeled away and paced the room erratically, seething. But Tzvi didn't have the time to appreciate the returned space. He stopped half-way through one cycle.

"Fuck these bullshit excuses. We're detaining you until you're cleared, or I have the information to clear you."

"What?" Tzvi wheeled backward, falling behind Kygg. The guards working hard to stare at the screens turned uncertainly to Orish. "This is of vital importance, our employer doesn't temporarily dismiss his hospitality staff just to say 'Hello, bridge!'"

"Nathallin is not my employer. And a call'll come around soon if it's 'of vital importance.'"
"The boss'll be furious!" her voice sounded desperate in her ears.
"With Nathallin, for jumping rank." One guard, Ret, began to shift to stand.

Nothing but blanks hit her. Three armed men were going to cuff and dump them with Roland and Mark. Attacking one would set off an alarm, running would set off an alarm and leave Kygg and Roland to deal with the security room, and leave Nova to deal with the rest of the ship.

Orish began to close in again. They couldn't get caught. Not this soon.

"uh..." her gaze flit from the guards to Kygg. She muttered quickly to her partner, "get the key!"

Kygg hoped she meant the salarian's omni-tool.

"GO!"
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Mosis Tosis
Raw

Mosis Tosis

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Tanya's technical explanation certainly sounded official, but Kosso understood only one word out of ten. Maybe Luek was following, maybe not; his impassive "face" was as unyielding as ever. The Hanar did, however, noticeably shift into a lush burst of fresh color when Tanya mentioned, with all due dramatic effect, that her new tech could be a literal revolution. There it is, Kosso thought, a bit smugly. He may think himself the biggest fish in the pond, but this is one piece of bait he can't refuse. We've got him.

But when Luek spoke, it wasn't in affirmation of their proposed deal. Instead, he casually motioned one of his bodyguards towards the two of them. "Refill our guests drinks, Alejo." The Drell nodded immediately before moving to pour new liquor for Tanya and Kosso. The two bodyguards hadn't said a single word since appearing alongside Luek in the main lounge. Tall, thin and dressed in simple suits, they had moved behind Luek with practiced precision, never more than three steps behind their employer. Here in the relative quiet of the study, they had taken pre-ordained positions on opposite walls, hand clasped behind their backs. Though they seemed relaxed, Kosso knew that beneath their cool exteriors they were tensed, always ready to spring into action. Both had a heavy pistol holstered at the waist, but in a close-quarters fight their hands would be just as deadly as any firearms, and it was more than likely that one or both were skilled biotics.

They would be the hardest part of the mission. Kosso had expected two guards and hoped for one; he knew he was quick enough to take out one before the situation turned into an ordeal. Two, though...he'd have to be fast, and Tanya even faster. He hoped she had managed to smuggle a few surprises in with that omni-tool of hers. At the very least, he didn't recognize either of the guards, and they didn't seem to recognize him. Though both were Drell, he saw no hints of recognition in their dark, ever-wary eyes. That was good.

As their drinks were refilled, Luek turned to a large, ornately carved ivory desk at the center of the room and pressed a small hidden button. The surface of the desk began to shine, and a shimmering hologram of a planet suddenly appeared, hanging in the dim light a few feed overhead. Upon closer inspection, Kosso realized that it was Kahje, with each city, dry dome, and spaceport mapped out along its surface. Alongside each were long strings of numbers, occasionally accompanied by words emblazoned in a text that Kosso couldn't read. This is it. This is what we came here for But this was just a glimpse of the prize, one of Luek's many frivolous and ultimately worthless playthings. The source of all this data was elsewhere in the room, hidden away behind locked doors.

Tilting upwards towards the hologram, Luek's already fluorescent body was awash in a vibrant neon glow. "Do you know the name of this ship?" He asked. He had directed the question towards Tanya, but it was Kosso that answered, seeing the confusion on his partner's face.

"Aurelion." He took a sip of his drink, trying not to let his discomfort show. He wasn't sure where Luek was going with this. "A most noble sounding name, to be sure, but I must confess that I do not know its meaning."

"It comes from an old legend." Luek reached idlly up to touch the surface of the planet above. The hologram was incredibly detailed; Kosso was a bit shocked to see the digital seas of Kahje ripple as Luek's tentacle gently breached their surface. "It is a bit of Hanar folk tale, passed down from ancient eras." Lightly, he flicked the end of his tentacle to one side, causing the Kahje projection to spin slowly, as if in normal rotation. Luek watched the oceans go sliding by as he told the story.

"Aurelion was a king among Hanar, though many would call him a genius, and many more would call him a lunatic. This was back before the Hanar had breached the surface of our seas in any meaningful way, and most were content to build below the waves, amidst the comfort of the ocean's depths. All but Aurelion. He wished to build upwards, above the surf and swell. He planned a great tower, one that would rise from the sea, atop which he could gaze out over Kahje from his perch within the clouds, as the Enkindlers must have once done. Those closest to him tried to dissuade him from his mad task, but Aurelion could not be budged. It took him many cycles and much toil, and some say the sheer exhaustion of the building left him nearly dead, but eventually he triumphed. He had crafted a brilliant tower of coral, and it pierced the sky and held dominion over every wave. At its summit, Aurelion made his home, and with the coming of each morning he would look over his creation and be satisfied.

"However, from his lofty perch in the sky, Aurelion could not see the base of his tower, and there the waves were slowly eating away at the coral, one particle at a time. The waves worked at his tower for many cycles, but so high was he that he did not notice, until one day his tower came toppling down into the waves, carrying poor Aurelion with it. For as we rose from the sea, so too must we return. So the saying goes.

"On Kahje it is taught as a sort of cautionary tale: 'take care that you do not grasp at things that you cannot have, or risk finding yourself amongst ruin.' When this one 'retired' from the political sphere, several years ago, this one could hear them whispering behind its back, mocking it. 'There goes Aurelion, born again. His desire extended past his reach, and look where he has ended up.'" Kosso could sense that low rumble again, as if something vast and deep was stirring within Luek, something he suspected was anger, boiling somewhere deep below his calm exterior. The Hanar reached up again, pushing the rotating planet harder, sending into a wicked spin. Waves washed up and over the great cities of Kahje, swallowing them in pixellated seafoam.

"They called this one a fool, but they had it all wrong. Aurelion may have ended in ruin, but at least he had courage, and determination enough to build towards something greater than the rest. While others languished below, he was as a king within his tower, all because he dared to reach out and make his plans a reality. Truly, our dreams are not limited by our reach, but only by our will. Aurelion should have been praised, not pitied.

"So it was that this one did not feel insulted by the comparison. In fact, this one welcomed it. It was this one's badge of honor: this one did not allow the petty constraints of its fellows keep it chained to a lesser life. This one reached where others did not, and that it is what sets this one apart." Abruptly, he reached up and stopped the spinning hologram. The thrashing oceans continued to slosh and spill along the planet's surface, carried by momentum. Luek watched the waves crash together for a moment before turning towards Tanya. "Do you understand? There are two types of people in this galaxy: Those who are content to toil along lines of tradition, bound by 'morals,' or by 'conscience.' And those who realize that the only thing that matters...the only thing that sets the good apart from the great...is how far one is willing to reach.

"Before this one does business with a stranger, especially business of this scale, this one must be sure that the matter at hand can be carried through to completion, no matter the cost or consequence. So, Ms. Piers, of the two types of people...which are you?"
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Dervish
Raw
Avatar of Dervish

Dervish Let's get volatile

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Tanya accepted the fresh champagne glass with a confident smile from the stoic-faced drell. While she couldn’t read most hanar expressions, she was pretty sure she knew where Luek stood; he was damn excited at the proposition. Either Tanya was convincing, or Luek was desperate for a stroke of good luck in the form of a solid investor, if Kosso and Zhar’s collective analysis was of any indication. The human woman’s grey eyes turned to the hologram of Kahje, the projection impressively detailing about anything needed to know about the planet’s many interconnecting cities, transportation hubs, and Tanya was certain each hot point was layered with several complex layers of information that could detail absolutely everything about a point of interest, from population numbers to members of government to predominant businesses in the area. Invaluable for just about anyone to know, let alone someone with Luek’s connections and influence.

"Do you know the name of this ship?" the hanar asked, catching Tanya somewhat off guard. Of course she didn’t; it was an inquiry that came out of left field as she said. Was she being tested? If so, it was not a comforting feeling. She glanced at Kosso, hoping for a sudden breakthrough that she desperately needed right then. Fortunately, this is where Kosso was certainly an invaluable asset; he knew his quarry and had so far proven rather deft at planning the heist. It was hard to admit, but the two of them complimented each other rather well. They were a solid team.

If only the others were having such luck.

Tanya listened as Luek spun his tale of ancient hanar bullshit, a story that was probably told in every civilization in one form or another, cautioning against over-extending one’s reach lest they fall and fuck up so hard that their abysmal failure would be a cautionary tale for school children for countless generations after the fact. The fact Luek was likening himself to this Aurelion fellow was more of an indication of his over-inflated ego and he perhaps let off a bit too much of his insecurities about his place amongst his own kind than perhaps he intended to; it would explain why he was granting an unknown, unproven human woman and her drell partner with crazy ideas a captivated audience. When Luek concluded his tale, he turned the table to Tanya. Was Veronia Piers willing to go the distance, to reach out and take what others dare not?

Tanya stood and strolled over to the holographic projection, the azure light splashing across her fair skin, making it appear as if the waves of Kahje itself was dancing upon her. She reached out a slender hand, running her hand through the artificial waves. “’Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, for the greatest tragedy of them all is never to feel the burning light.’” She recited with well-practiced prose, her accent giving an air of formal, educated authority as Oscar Wilde’s words became her own. She turned her gaze to Luek. “We have a very similar tale in our own mythology, where Icarus defied his father’s instructions not to take the wings his father had crafted and flew too close to the sun, where they came apart around him. Icarus perished for his hubris by falling into the sea where he drowned.” She smiled at the hanar.

“Seems all too appropriate for Kahje, does it not? Icarus was a remarkable figure not because of his fate, but because he ignored what was expected of him to pursue his own path, to escape the only land he had ever known and to see the world beyond Crete. It’s somewhat romantic, I think. How is that different than the brave souls who set off in ships to cross the unknown ocean the first time, or those who propelled themselves into the stars? They did not pay heed to what others had said, to exercise caution as they propelled themselves into the unknown. Where would we be if we never took risks, to extend our grasp beyond what we can see? Mr. Luek, I am most certainly someone who isn’t afraid to reach and take what others fear to grasp. The tales of Icarus and Aurelion should not be cautionary tales, but inspirations. We should aspire to be like them, should we not? Only when we build too high or get too close to the sun, we’ll be sure to incorporate fail safes before then.” Tanya gave Luek a grin. “I believe my partner and I just may have found a kindred spirit, do you agree, Mr. Luek?”
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Vakte
Raw

Vakte

Member Offline since relaunch

The large krogan grunted as he shoved the loud-mouth human from After-Life, it was boring work, keeping the peace within Omega’s prime club, but it paid well enough for the moment, and he got the chance to dig up information on the Blood Pack while he waited for the next group of mercs who thought Aria’s laws didn’t apply to them. The human turned to shout something about his friends going to see the krogan soon, Barb didn’t care, and it had been too long since he had butted heads with some over-confident fools. Barkeep, the Elchor whose name Barb hadn’t bothered to learn, didn’t even turn to face the loud-mouth, he kept to his own duties, keeping the line with impatient and annoying people, a job Barb had tried for about five minutes before he had beaten three Batarians. Although he didn’t say it, or even show it, Helios Barb respected those who could keep their tempers when loud-mouths started up. By Kalros’ scaly ass did Barb want to fight with something, hell he’d even go with hunting some blasted Vorcha through the lower levels again. Turning from the human without a word, Barb set off back into the lively club, the usual asari were dancing away on their platforms or on the tables with customers, Moklan was lurking around one again, the Batarian was a creep that way, he liked to make others think he was a man of importance, but he was just another show of muscle for Aria, and he tried to use his “position” as a reason to get free dances with the dancers. Aria was still seated on that couch of hers, Barb could see the crest of her head visible from where he stood, and maybe she’d have another job for him, a real one this time.

“Moklan, keep an eye on the floor, I’m busy,” snapped Barb as the batarian lurking in the corner next to Jesabelle, one of the newer dancers, one who likely didn’t know Moklan for what he was.

“Whatever krogan,” muttered the batarian, his four eyes not leaving the asari.

Aria had a number of guards, not that she needed them, Barb had learned that himself, the asari was not to be messed with on the best of days, and that had become one of her favourite sayings now since Barb had been planted on his ass by the Pirate Queen, with Patriarch howling in laughter with the now common law of Afterlife, hell of all Omega: “Don’t fuck with Aria”. Two tried to bar the krogan’s path, but Aria waved her hand, the pair separating for the large enforcer. He reached the foot of the stairs which lead to Aria’s couch, he didn’t dare put a foot in on those stairs, he wasn’t sure he could take another beating from the Pirate Queen of Omega.
“What do you want Barb?” said Aria, her tone telling that she didn’t really care.

“I want a real job Aria,” grunted Barb, opening and closing his fist as he felt his patience already fading for the turian standing behind him.
“You have a job, keep the peace in my club,” said Aria matter-of-fact like.

“It’s not enough, I need to hunt something, I need to fight something, a real fight, not this vorcha Maw-shit that you have us doing now and again,”

“Well I do have one task on hold, you remember a while ago that shoot up between the Blue Suns and some ragtag band?”

“Aye, what about it?” said Barb, he’d been cleaning that mess up for a while, the Blue Suns weren’t happy with the fact Aria didn’t push for more bounty hunters to find that band.

“Turns out they have a unique ship to their name. A former turian frigate, and the Blue Suns are offering a large sum of credits to take this from them, you get me that ship, with or without the crew, and I’ll get you back on Tuchanka, and with a few friends to help even the odds with your Blood Pack friends,” she said, looking up from the datapad in her hand.

“Really? You want me to repo some turian piece of shit?” said Barb, feeling the turian bristle behind him.

“Repo it or kill everything and hand the keys to me, I don’t care. Get me that ship Barb and you get your vengeance,” said Aria, standing up now.
Barb knew better than to argue with her on this fact, when Aria T’Loak stood, you backed the fuck up or got put on your ass for it. With a grunt of approval, the krogan turned on the spot, shoving past the turian again, the guard lost his grip on his rifle, the weapon bouncing down the stairs, the impacts jarring the trigger enough to fire off a couple of rounds per bounce. Barb laughed as his shields absorbed the impacts, and the rounds made some new decorative holes in the ceiling. No one really too notice of the shots, shootings were common-place on Omega, the turian hurriedly picked his weapon up, turning back to face Barb, his mandibles flaring as his anger took over his senses for a moment.

“Come on bird-boy, I could use the exercise,” whispered Barb, he could see the hatred in the turian’s eyes, even centuries after the Rebellions, and the turians hated the krogan almost as much as the krogan hated everything else.

“Dannick, drop it, I don’t need to deal with repairing anymore holes with your pay, Barb, either finish the job, or don’t come back, I don’t care what you choose really,” said Aria, not looking from her datapad again.

“One day vorcha-lover, I’ll get even with you,” growled the turian.

“Whatever you say twitchy, let me know in advance so I can give a fuck,” answered Barb, pushing past him again.

After leaving After-Life and making his way through the slums of Omega Barb reached what had become his home of late, a small hab unit which was closer to the reactors than most, just as he liked the warmth, he kicked the annoying chair from the terminal that was installed against the wall. Leaning over the terminal he activated it aging power supply, the holographic interface flickering annoyingly, Barb slammed his fist against the side of the terminal a few times, the frame rattling with each strike before the interface straightened out and settled itself.

>>> Communications: Omega Instant Messaging Service
Sign In: BloodSun949
Password: ***-***-*
Welcome to Omega Instant Messaging Service, sponsored by Afterlife Exotic Dancers, the best damn dancers you’ll find on Omega.

BloodSun949: Started a Chat
>>>BloodSun949 invited iBrokerApp to Chat
>>>iBrokerApp joined Chat
iBrokerApp: what u want big boy?
BloodSun949: need a location on a turian ship
iBrokerApp: u know I hate pissing off the council races. itll cost extra
BloodSun949: yeh yeh. cant be worse than last time
iBrokerApp: sure it can. i can bring my wife this time.
BloodSun949: ive got a quad, blue girl, i can handle 2 squishy asari
iBrokerApp: promises promises. which ship u after?
BloodSun949: aint got a name but its a turian frigate that was decommed. last heard it was held by some new merc group
iBrokerApp: narrows it down i guess. ill get back to u soon big boy
BloodSun949: sooner the better blue, pq is after this one
iBrokerApp: well maybe ill take my time then
BloodSun949: ull get it 4 me now, sooner i get that ship, sooner u get a quad
iBrokerApp: tease
iBrokerApp: ill get it 2 u within a couple hours
>>>iBrokerApp Left Chat
>>>BloodSun949 Closed Chat Session

With a sigh the large krogan applied the OIMS to his omni-tool, setting it’s setting to loud he slumped into the remains of what had once been a solid metal bed, but now resembled more of Tuchanka than it should, the mess of bent bars and wrecked frame work twisted into various shapes, his movement clicked the large collection around his neck, and Barb pulled the chain-linked necklace from his head, the single tags of over three hundred former friends and comrades rattled in front of him, one side bore a name and race, a homeworld, the opposite side bore the blood red sun emblem that had been the symbol of the Red Suns, four large flames pointing north, south, east and west, while four smaller flames pointed to the inclines between directions, a single red circle smacked in the centre. It matched the symbol engraved in the shoulder guard of his armour, a symbol that he would carve into the skull of the Blood Pack warlord Weyrloc Saur. He could remember the faces of those he had grown to see as family, with every moment he closed his eyes, their last screams of pain and death filled his ears, their pleading faces taunting his closed eyes, demanding vengeance. Growling, Barb pulled the large collection back over his head, the tags clicking against his armour, it wouldn’t be long before he’d be on the hunt again, after settling up with iBrokerApp of course, every krogan had some way to relieve certain stresses, the asari technical expert who worked with Eclipse from time to time was one of his, as was her wife sometimes, although the Eclipse grunts weren’t always happy to be hearing their antics and often a new rotation would charge in expecting a lethal battle to be erupting within the asari’s quarters. Having a quad certainly gave krogan an advantage with most antics, but some asari, as Barb had learned, were just insatiable. With another growl, Helios Barb closed his eyes, the screams of the past, and the images of the lost filling his mind as his waited for iBrokerApp to get him the location of this stealth ship.

It felt like an age by the time his omni-tool activated with a message from iBrokerApp, but he gave thanks to whatever gods or fates that lurked in the void of space for the respite of listening to his family die once more. Turning over the channel, he activated the security protocols that iBroker had sent him the first time they had began trading services. Three of four blinked into life, indicating something was trying to gain access to the channel, three sets of numbers appeared on each seal, in total he only had ninety seconds to complete this exchange before the hacker learned everything they had spoken of. He signed into the OIMS again, noting that iBroker had a chat set up and waiting.

iBrokerApp: dont know who is trying to hack me but theyre good. uve kicked a stingwing nest big boy
BloodSun949: no surprise. 1k creds on blue suns
iBrokerApp: ill take that bet on eclipse then
BloodSun949: so where is it?
iBrokerApp: seems its owned by a group called nova not much intel on them, think sb will know more, but sources say theyve got dealings on kahje
BloodSun949: kahje? what they after there?
iBrokerApp: got nothing. whatever it is its kept in the dark. all i know is nova is hanging around kahje so ud best start looking there
BloodSun949: thanks then. ill see u when im back blue
iBrokerApp: be careful big boy. nova had some scuffles to their name and what they did was impressive on paper
BloodSun949: krogan blue. nothin else to b said
iBrokerApp: hackers breaking the security. good luck
>>> iBrokerApp Ended the Chat
>>> BloodSun949 Has Been Removed From Chat


Lowering his omni-tool, Barb thought about what could draw a merc group to Kahje, the drell were worthwhile foes, but Nova didn't seem to be one to recruit assassins, from what little information he had on them they seemed to be a mix of former Alliance, STG and other underworld elements. It didn't matter, his ticket to Tuchanka hovered somewhere near Kahje, so he'd best get a move on before they finished up whatever they had on that watery rock. His omni-tool beeped again, and he grinned to see the reservation number for a ticket to Kahje on a merchant ship appear in his name, iBroker was pulling out all the stops for his return by the looks of it, he'd have to repay the asari for that. With a grunt he hefted his bulky body from the metallic remains of his bed, pulling his Torrent rifle from beside the terminal and letting it fold against his back, his rugged Graal Spike Thrower never left his body, the weapon still folded near the base of his spine. His transport left in an hour, the joys of a hunt came with the drawbacks of travel, Barb personally hoped another krogan would be aboard this ship, he could use a good old headbutting match with one of his own kind. Walking from what had been his home for nearly two years, Barb sealed the door behind him, making his way to the docking area to find this merchant ship that was heading for Kahje, the Destiny's Cousin, an asari ship by the sounds, making a play off the legendary Destiny Ascendant.

"Ready or not, Nova, Barb's coming for ya," he grumbled as he stalked through the hallways of Omega.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Dervish
Raw
Avatar of Dervish

Dervish Let's get volatile

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

LOGIN: [TCARSON@TYRUS.NOVA]
PASSWORD: [*******]
LOGGING IN… COMPLETE
[ACCESS FILE: AutobiographyDraft.5]
GRANTED
________

Have you ever become so good at something it becomes more of a reflex than a subconscious effort?

That’s exactly what happened to me on the 3 week voyage to Arcturus Station during the first portion of basic training with being able to field strip my M7-T Lancer and suiting up in combat rig after being woken up from sleep late at night or early in the morning (relatively speaking for a starship) by our instructors, who constantly kept us on our toes. The two weeks, which were nerve wracking, paled to the weeks to come. I thought I had a pretty good handle of what it meant to become a member of the armed forces, given my family pedigree, but I never expected to have been pushed so hard to the limits. I’m not sure what kept me going through training other than one simple thing; the women in my family are notoriously stubborn.

The first two weeks were spent familiarizing ourselves with Systems Alliance Marine Corps culture, the history, ethos, and military law, as well as learning the time honoured tradition of keeping a uniform pressed and ready, as well as the immortal art of bouncing credit chits off of expertly folded beds. If you ever had the idea that being stuck aboard a ship would be a pass from physical training, and you would be wrong. The physical training section of the SSV Ottawa would put most land-bound gymnasiums to shame; a 500 meter track complimented by a full-sized obstacle course, a sparring arena, free weights, tread mills, a boxing ring, and the like. Needless to say, every morning at 0600h ship time, all 36 trainees of 3 Platoon plus our six section commanders. I was in 2 Section with 11 other recruits, most of whom were absolute shitheads.
However, compared to Service Chief Jansen, they were saints.

I have had some pretty shitty alarm clocks in my life, but none of them compare to the absolute bullshit that is an area denial riot grenade. One minute, you’re dreaming of the hundreds of things you’d rather be doing than getting up at 6 in the fucking morning and suddenly you’re assaulted by this god forsaken banshee screech is filling the barracks and a pulsing light more blinding than a pulsar is doing a dandy job ensuring you’ll never see again. Ten minutes later, we’re beginning our hour of PT before breakfast. Every day for a solid two weeks was like this.

Not to say it was all bad, but they certainly have a way of drilling that shit into you. You learn to get your shit ready the night before and you’re out of the bunk getting dressed before you even know what’s going on, anything to get away from the grenade. The various injuries sustained during PT, including one time where I tripped up a set of stairs during a run to get to the gym and gouged my arm so badly I needed sixteen stitches was a more pleasant experience than our wake-up call. I wasn’t the only person to get the shit kicked out of them during PT, and I’m pretty sure our Platoon alone probably created a rust-brown camouflage pattern on our deck of the ship from our blood by the time we got off the SSV Ottawa. Remarkably, none of the recruits dropped out during this time period, and we all collectively sighed in relief when Service Chief Jansen congratulated us on making it through the first two weeks, and that the area denial grenades would no longer be used outside of combat exercises.

That relief was short lived, as we were promptly introduced to the next phase of training in the last week aboard the Ottawa in the form of the training Lancers being shot into the barracks and various platoon members getting stitched by training rounds. Needless to say, we learned quickly to sleep facing away from the door and with hearing protection in.

As fucked up as that must seem on the outside looking in, it really did get us not only used to the sound of gunfire and how to react to getting shot at. Whoever got shot any particular morning was anyone’s guess; some days, it was even the same poor bastard twice in a row, other days, it was an entire half of the barracks. The girl’s section wasn’t exempt, either. I even managed to take a round in the same area as my stitches. It’s quite remarkable that you can still manage to say ‘sir’ at the end of a profanity-filled tirade when you are in agonizing pain.

On the plus side, even though PT was getting increasingly more taxing and we were dealing with randomized daily gunshot wounds, we started learning about actual marine shit that a lot of people signed up for. We were issued our uniforms and were familiarized with the weapons that we were getting all too exposed to. Some of the larger Alliance ships actually do have firing ranges in place, partially to keep the naval personnel that call the ships home’s skills sharp. I shot guns back home on Terra Nova, but nothing was like the first time I was put down onto a shooting mat with the M7-T and squeezed that trigger. Not many civilians get the opportunity to play with military hardware, and even with the targeting computers and other idiot-proof systems in modern day military arms, I still was not ready for how insane automatic fire was. Clearly, it wasn’t just me who felt that way; most of the platoon was as giddy as a school girl who just got asked to prom, only instead of a cute boy it’s a mean looking bastard with biceps the size of our ration packs, and instead of a carnation it’s a heavy barreled composite of alloys and polymers that fires millimetre thick rounds at a fraction of the speed of light near indefinitely. You can probably guess which one I prefer. I wasn’t the best shot in our Platoon, not by a long shot (don’t tell the crew, but I placed bottom third; there’s a reason I like shotguns). Meanwhile, my friend Arnold Lewis, a former farm hand from Eden Prime topped the glass in every marksman category. If you asked him to, I’m pretty sure he could write your name in cursive from 200 plus meters with an Avenger. Needless to say, it came as no surprise when Lewis was nominated to be one of the six designated marksmen of the platoon.

I would like to say the remaining days aboard the cruisers were uneventful, but then it would be a boring story, wouldn’t it? Dima Yelsin, a diminutive but brash Lusitanian decided that since our time aboard the Ottawa was coming to a close, he was running out of chances to get back on our instructors, and he simply wasn’t going to let that come to pass. I don’t even know how the hell he got his hands on them, but he showed up with a pillow case filled with those damn area denial grenades and the look of a man who was about to do something incredibly stupid. Sure enough, he disappears from the canteen where I was watching some of the guys play a game of pool when we hear the siren of the grenades go off through the vents, and yelling that can be best equated to a den of very pissed off bears. Yelsin comes running back into the room, grinning like a fool, and he shoves the pillow case under one of the chairs and hops over to one of the couches to watch the rugby game like nothing fucking happened. A few minutes later, the entire cadre of instructors barge in the canteen looking furious and the next thing we know, we’re formed up on the parade square with the discharged grenades being shoved in our faces, demands to know who threw them into the instructor’s canteen and locking the door being bellowed in our faces. If we weren’t so terrified of being stuck with a court martial, I’m sure most of us would have laughed. Hell, I almost did. To the Platoon’s credit, nobody ratted Yelsin out, and we spent the next 5 hours on the parade square doing “motivational” PT and other such punishing nonsense in an attempt to lure out the culprit. They couldn’t charge and discharge an entire platoon, especially since almost everyone was innocent, so they had no choice but to let it go, but I’ll tell you now, I couldn’t walk without a limp for the next three days. It was so worth it.

Two days after Yelsin’s terror attack, we docked at Arcturus Station, the Systems Alliance military headquarters and home of Alliance Parliament. The station is an impressive sight; it’s a massive disc with two parallel arms extending outwards that act as docks for the 5th Fleet and any other ship that comes to the station, be it from Earth or Citadel space. It was also around the first time any of us recruits had seen an Alliance Dreadnought in person, it’s hard to believe anybody can leave a dent in one of those behemoths, let alone take one down. If there was a moment where any of us started to feel like we were a part of the military, this was certainly a strong contender for that claim. There wasn’t much time to admire the scenery, because as soon as the SSV Ottawa was docked, all the various boot courses were ushered off the ship and promptly divided into their Method of Combat (military trade for the uninitiated) groups and many of the people I spent the past three weeks suffering with were separated from me to go do anything from learning how to become fighter pilots to cooks while I and the 60 other mechanized marines were sent to our new barracks. On the plus side, I wasn’t alone; I still had Lewis and Yelsin with me, the bad news was our CO was none other than Service Chief Jansen who was only so eager to make up for the incident involving the area denial grenade three nights prior. Ever have a moment where you resign to your fate and accept you’re fucked? It hadn’t quite set in yet, even though it would have been a mercy if it did. Few things in this galaxy were as unsettling as that man’s tight-lipped smile… well, maybe the mess food. I’m a firm believer that eggs shouldn’t come from refrigerated capsules.

This is around when shit started getting interesting and dare I say, fun? Since everyone at this point in training had, in theory, mastered the art of getting dressed and knowing what to call the person screaming at them without resulting in more push-ups, we were moved onto basic infantry tactics and other such things that are in theory useful for when you’re going to get shot at. I still remember the first day I put on a suit of armour like it was yesterday. Given how robust and well-plated it is, it is shockingly lightweight and flexible. It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant shit to run 10 kilometers in with a Lancer, but it wasn’t cumbersome like you’d think. It took me a long time to get used to the idea of weapons magnetically securing themselves to slots built into the back of the armour, since conventional wisdom says that if you’re attaching kit to your shit, you don’t rely on something that ancient cultures at one point probably considered witchcraft. Still, you learn to love it, and it’s a lot less of a pain in the ass as the slings they used to use in the old days.

The crown jewel of this training as at 8 weeks in, they loaded us onto a transport on the way to Benning for field training, which was the first time we had…
Hold that thought. My omni-too just pinged. It appears Roland has fallen into my trap and is locked in the elevator listening to some leftover audio files from the Fornax vids I procured for the Omega job. I wonder how long he will last before the sensual audio of, ‘Heating up the Front Lines: Men of the Turian Military’ will make him submit. I wonder what he’s willing to bargain for his freedom this time. I do hope it’s more of that Firebrand whiskey I’ve grown rather fond of.

[USER: CLOSE FILE]
_______
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Tick
Raw
GM

Tick

Member Seen 9 yrs ago

To Mark's pleasure, he didn't have to wait long for the proverbial shit to hit the proverbial fan. As the guards moved to provide Mark some new bench mates, the two servers burst into action... somewhat clumsily in the veterans honest opinion. Effective, but clumsy.

Tzvi shoved her arms and hands out with all she had, for all its worth, flinging Kygg at Orish at an angle that she didn't have time to even hope had an advantage. The quarian already had the omni-tool up and switched focus to the desk jockey with terrible security. A flare and a shock leaped from Ret's own omni-tool. The fire slammed and ate away at Lonnie in a second and soon pried a scream out of him, and the shock seized Ret in an instant, dissipating the shields as the turian's body buckled and hit the wall.

Kygg, however, was lighter on his feet than his frame suggested. Flowing with Tzvi's push his shoulder struck the salarian's torso causing the Quantum boss to stumble. Kygg readjusted his balance, sliding past Orish and delivering a firm punch to his stomach once he was at the man's side. Orish recoiled but his omni-tool flared up to activate his armour's shields. Kygg responded in kind, the searing hot blade ejected from his omni-tool raking down the mercenary's back, reducing the shields to nothing in an instant. However it had done nothing to Orish's stance or form and he, just as effectively, threw an agile punch which collided with Kygg's jaw.

Despite the thin frame of most salarians, Orish included, his punch hit like an Isaac Newton. Kygg's back hit the wall, feeling his mouth sting and a little blood run across his tongue. He looked up just in time to see a second punch aimed at him, this time one that struck his stomach with a heavy thud. Kygg was winded, gasping for a breath. Oh, how he was going to enjoy making this salarian's life a misery later. When Orish tried a third time, Kygg threw his head forwards, his skull crashing into Orish's flat nose. It bought him a few moments to react.

Tzvi quickly dragged the slumped, limp Ret from the chair he leaned against, away from the desk. Lonnie had done the favor of running off and rolling away on the floor, and with any luck that guard was unconscious by then.

Her head whipped back to a strong thud behind her, and then a second. Tzvi turned in time to catch Kygg caught in a corner of the wall and the floor, bashing Orish's face with his own head, now painted in green. The vorcha’s sea of needle-sharp teeth spread out for display with a grin at Orish’s renovated face - whatever that was. The salarian leaned and fell back, but his hands didn’t reach for the new wound. A scratched, guttural growl grew into an unnerving scream.

“Alright then-” It was due time her partner got some help. With two hard tugs on the groaning turian and a rush of steps - “Hey, buddy -” Tzvi dumped Ret next to Roland. “Sit on this guy for a sec.” Roland played his small part -- sitting on the guard when ordered -- and had tried to lend a hand to Kygg's brawl in the form of biotics, but without his hands free, he couldn't even conjure the normal Stasis field that he had been so accustomed to using. Damn mnemonics, the thought struck him through clenched teeth, and just as suddenly, an epiphany struck. It looked like he would momentarily be delaying his training sessions with Kosso, for now.

Mark's eyes glanced over at the table where his weapons had been placed and considered making a move, but decided against it. He wouldn't be able to do anything with his hands cuffed behind him, and it was still too soon to determine who he should be rooting for. As he thought, and the salarian tussled with the vorcha, the quarian dragged the dazed turian over to the bench and told Archie/Roland to sit on him with a measure of familiarity.

Thought so.

The Quantum boss was already swinging another punch. Tzvi ran on impulse with shoulder front, slamming against the left of the boss’s back as he began to lean down to take a crack at Kygg’s face. The sudden ram interrupting Orish was enough to lose balance. The two plummeted into the ground and the salarian’s head rattled as he was banged up by the floor.

“Goddammit!!”

Tzvi jumped at the sound, ripping her arms from the entanglement until they popped out. The gust of force from the momentum spun her backward until her body caught itself, recklessly launching forward and landing her hands on the ground to stop. Orish thrashed out as he untwisted himself from the ground, missing the quarian by a thread’s width. The suited girl scuttled back arms and knees, shakily pushing her arms, then legs, against the carpet along the way to clamber to a stand.

With the moment to catch his breath long since gone the vorcha put one foot up against the wall and used it to push himself forwards. He tackled Orish, once again bringing him to the floor. The man was swept off of his feet, wrestled to the ground by an angry vorcha and already having a clenched fist forced into his stomach. Kygg grinned, throwing another and another. Orish groaned in pain with every strike, even his armour failing to soften the blow.

The salarian swung both of his arms upwards, his palms open and striking both sides of his foe's head with a bell clap. Kygg's hearing screamed at him but it was not enough to open him up for a second strike. As Orish tried another lunge with a closed fist, Kygg responded in kind as his omni-tool formed around his fist a second time. The searing blade cut along Orish's gauntlet as it dragged down, never breaking the salarian's skin but cutting through the wiring of his armour and served as a strong reminder just how dangerous these weapons could be.

One of many reasons why Kygg chose it over a gun.

Orish predicted a killing blow and his body froze as the blade grazed his neck. Yet the vorcha never continued, holding his arm in place with the omni-blade tickling his leathery skin. The blade was hot, burning his flesh as it was held in place. Orish considered it a better alternative to dying but how long the vorcha would keep him there. He spat in Kygg's face, an action the vorcha responded to with a smile.

"Not a good idea to taunt a man'ah with a knife to your neck'ah..."

Kygg had bounced back into combat with a zeal that didn't logically follow his entrapment or the wounds he took moments prior. Tzvi wouldn't have known what happened, if it wasn't for all the red blood that trickled down Kygg's chin and the salarian's. Orish never made a stand before he smacked against the floor again. The quarian took a deep breath and threw a small thumbs-up. "We're gonna need his omni-tool."

"Got it'ah," replied Kygg, his free hand moving to the salarian's left arm.

Orish struggled as Kygg expected but he simply pressed the omni-blade lightly against his neck, breaking skin. He winced and, after a few seconds, his arm relaxed, allowing Kygg to activate his omni-tool. It flared up around the salarian's wrist and, Kygg grabbed it, dragging the device from him. He tossed it in Tzvi's general direction, focusing on keeping Orish down.

"Fantastic." Tzvi beamed, downright giddy as she scooped up a Quantum boss's small device and slapped it onto her opposing arm. She sent a two-fingered salute Kygg’s way, “Thanks.” It was about time Roland get out of those cuffs. The pair on Roland were straight plates of metal, no actual keyhole to be found, so the bet was for electronic locks.

Lonnie was not in a much more dignified position than Orish was, little more than a large lump of splayed limbs teetering between temporarily and permanently unconscious. He wasn't about to cause Nova strife beyond the smell wafting over. Ret, however, was moving with louder complaints of pain.

Tzvi's hand shot down for her pistol, falling through empty space and hitting her hip. Her shoulders tensed in pain. "Riight." No weapons into the party. A quick check of the room revealed the heavy pistol on the security room's desk and a knife, barely visible in the dark under the table, laying on the floor. Tzvi darted to the screens, going for the Phalanx first. The gun slid off the surface with a quiet whir. Ducking, it took a second to slip the knife into an innocent-looking pocket of the servant suit.

Ret's eyes were open.

"Move and you die," Tzvi barked, speaking fast and winded. "Trigger an alarm, and my vorcha friend gets to finish you slow."

"It's like a birthday present'ah," replied Kygg. "Turians are the best toys'ah," he added, just to give his sentence the extra kick it needed.

The turian irritatedly grumbled, a slow glance rolling up to the barrel pointed at his skull. Today was not the day he wanted to put up with a security breech but he didn't have much of a choice.

The shields had partway recovered, but it didn't take long to fix that, and Roland had already kicked off the pistol while the two were carpet buddies.

"Alright, up, hands away from you. On the wall."

Tzvi kept a safe distance, close enough to ensure a safe shot, and kept a near constant eye on the bodyguard as she returned to searching through Orish's omni-tool. They didn't need the chance of a maverick hero sneaking a look and catching a thug turning from their target.

'The locks on the cuffs are on here somewhere...'
“Ah,” she chirped, “Theerre it is.” There were two active, but Tzvi only clicked the one dedicated to her tethered teammate. The other man was a merc, or at best a problem individual. Both ways he was a complication Nova didn't need.
A soft couple of clicks came from her right. “You're set.” Her head tilted slightly Roland's way. The ex-cop proved to be a little worn and bruised, but pristine compared to most everyone else in the room. “You alright?”

Tzvi took a long, wary look at the turian in front, and sighed in exasperation. A few lessons about close combat from her mother would have been worth slipping in before leaving home. Tzvi had no idea how to knock someone out, and Kygg was preoccupied.

“Hey, 'Archie,'” Tzvi nudged her head her way to bring Roland over, backing a step or two away from Ret. The medic walked over with a hopelessly lost and confused look on his face, but still stood too far. Tzvi's head echoed the last gesture, dovetailed with a theatrical swing of her arm in the same direction, trying to usher him next to her. She muttered low:

“...You know how to knock someone out, right?”
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Mosis Tosis
Raw

Mosis Tosis

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Kosso had always believed that a man could get used to anything, given enough time. Luek's "laughter" was challenging that belief. The strange, sinister sound came rumbling out of the Hanar again, echoing like the thrash of sea waves out of some, dark, salt-washed cave. It reached into Kosso, snaking through his ears and down into some deep, primal part of him, birthing a shiver that worked its way up his spine even as he tried to stifle it, tried to look unaffected. That's what it's for, he realized suddenly, to make people unsettled. Well, it's working, you bastard. Now let's get on with the show. He took another sip of his every-dwindling drink, letting a bit of impatience flicker across his features. Even my persona would be getting annoyed by now. We've been run around in circles for too long.

Luckily, it seemed Luek agreed. As his chuckling died down, he raised one tentacle and flicked lazily at the holographic image of Kahje, sending the planet spinning away somewhere into the corner of the room where it dissolved into nothingness. "Yes, Ms. Piers, it appears you are correct. This one has found himself in good company. Shall we discuss business?" Another tentacle pressed a hidden button, and soon the air shimmered with hundred of holographic images. Pages on pages of digital information bathed the study in the neon light of a million numbers and figures. It looked wholly incomprehensible, but Luek reached through the tangle and began retrieving the data he was looking for. "Let us discuss your initial investment, to begin. Then we may begin working on the logistics of future business, and how we shall divide the profits."

The data stream was almost as unfathomable and awe inspiring as the ocean itself; at a cursory glance it was easy to take in, but as soon as you tried to focus on any particular item it became somewhat daunting. Tanya decided she had a new found respect for information brokers; she had no idea how Luek knew where to look or how he managed to gather so much information or where all the sources were from. If Kosso knew what to do with all of that, it could potentially be a game changer. She allowed herself a brief moment of excitement, which she hoped Luek interpreted as her being relieved at entering a business arrangement.

The communicator implanted in the earring dangling from her left ear made a slight vibration twice, letting her know that the security room was secured and Tzvi and Kygg somehow managed to pull off an impressive feat. Now it fell to Tanya and Kosso to neutralize the room and crack the safe. Tanya wasn't entirely sure of her chances; she was unarmed, other than her omni-tool and while she was a fairly proficient fighter in hand to hand combat, she was still unshielded, in a dress, she was still at a disadvantage to the bodyguard, who in all likelihood was a very tough son of a bitch. This was Kosso's specialty; watching Roland get his ass kicked while Tanya tried to keep the drell from throwing the team's medic and financial officer into her work station was a testament to his skill as a martial artist. She'd follow Kosso's lead; he likely had a better sense of timing for these lopsided encounters than she did. At least they had the element of surprise.

The communicator hidden in Kosso's ear buzzed with a nearly silent whisper, carried from elsewhere in the ship. Kygg and Tzvi had neutralized the security room, at least for now. Apparently this team isn't always a mess. Now it's time to do our part. There was a weight in his stomach, a tangible dread coiling there like a Kahjean sea-snake, leaking poison. It took nearly all of his will to keep his hands from shaking as he took another drink. This was the part that would make them or break them, he knew. The rest of the team had made sure they could get the safe open without triggering an alarm, but actually getting to the safe would be the truly difficult task. Two bodyguards stood in their way, each highly trained, armed and potentially biotic. Kosso was trained as well, and confident that no one could best him if he got close enough...but he had no gun, and all Tanya had was her omni-tool and her wits. If she can incapacitate one for a second, or even just take care of his gun, I can take out the other one...but only if he's close enough. I'll never close the distance myself, he'd put a bullet in me before I took three steps. I have to bring him to me somehow. He finished his drink, stifling a scowl. Then he glanced into his empty champagne glass, and knew he had his solution.

"I would toast our budding partnership, but I appear to have misplaced my drink." He called jokingly. Luek, embroiled in business as he was, took the hint, gesturing one of his bodyguards to refill his glass. The arrogant bastard is using some of the deadliest fighters in the galaxy as his personal servants, pouring drinks and attending to his guests. It's appropriate, how useful his hubris is. As the other Drell crossed the floor towards him, Kosso didn't dare make eye contact with Tanya. He could only hope she'd gotten the message from the rest of the team, and was ready to jump into action. She'd have to be smart, she'd have to be accurate, and most of all, she'd have to be fast. One slip-up, and this whole venture would end only with their deaths.

Well, if they were going to act, she might as well put herself at a more advantageous position. She rose from her seat with an apologetic smile. "Before we begin our negotiation, I am slightly embarrassed to have to admit I need to use the facilities." she shook her glass for emphasis. "I am certain you could use a few extra moments to get your affairs in order before we begin, and my partner will be able to start on the groundwork for our budding partnership. She smiled at the guard closest to her, "Could you be a gentleman and escort a lady to take care of her own personal matters?" she said, stepping closer.

Impassive as he was, Luek's annoyance was palpable as he answered Tanya. "If you must, but this one would ask that you make some haste. Though our business here is undoubtedly important, this one's guests may find it unseemly if this one is absent from the party for too long."

"I'm quite surprised, Luek." Kosso's voice was cool, perfectly masking his tension as the bodyguard poured him a new drink. "I didn't think 'Aurelion' concerned himself with the opinions of others."

If Luek could have glared at him, he would have. "Aurelion did not care what others thought, but for all his ambition, Aurelion was a failure. This one recognizes the game that it is playing, and this one knows the importance of appearances. Oftentimes, a well-crafted charade serves better than honesty."

Kosso's face was perfectly still.. For a second, the study was silent except for the quiet fizz and pop of his nearly poured drink frothing at the brim of his glass, and the quiet sound of Tanya's footsteps as she approached the other guard. "Well said," he finally answered. Then he lashed out, throwing his drink in the face of the nearest guard.

Time seemed to slow down for Kosso. He saw everything: the splash of liquid against the Drell's pale face, the way the other guard immediately stiffened and began reaching for his gun, the gelatinous quiver of Luek's body as he began to shift in the other direction, startled. His drink glass was flying through the air, spiraling down out of his sight. Kosso was moving before it hit the floor.

Even blinded, his opponent was fast, moving to counter him. Kosso was reaching for the guard's gun with one hand, but the other Drell predicted it easily, expertly grabbing his arm by the elbow and twisting it away. Kosso twisted with it, bringing one foot forward and slamming an open palm into the underside of his chin. The Drell's head jerked violently back, and Kosso heard a sharp crack as the man's teeth smashed together. Even that wasn't enough to stop him, though. Already the guard's free hand was moving towards Kosso's side, aiming for the soft spot below his ribs.

It was smart move. In fact, it's exactly what Kosso would have done in that situation. Their training was identical, or near enough to make no matter. All of the guard's moves, his predictions, his attacks and blocks, they were all engraved in Kosso's mind, and he saw them all clearly, as if he'd learned them yesterday. He'll be expecting me to bring my elbow down to defend, which will leave my front unguarded, Kosso thought in a flash, the voice in his head sounding more like his old mentor, Cirn, than his own. Instead, he did something unpredictable. Pushing forward again, bulled into his opponent, sweeping one leg forward to trip him while he ducked and drove his shoulder into the other Drell's torso. The blow towards his side connected, but it was only a glancing blow; the guard was already being rolled smoothly over his shoulder, completely off the ground. Like Kosso, the man was all wiry muscle, with no real weight. Normally that would be an advantage, but Kosso knew what he was doing. Like he'd once told Roland, sometimes you just gotta "throw the fuck out of something."

The guard was forced over Kosso's hunched body, his feet hitting the ground on the other side without much confidence. Kosso didn't give him a chance to regain his balance. He was already twisting around, forcing the guard further. Kosso's arm was still caught at the elbow, and the sudden reversal of position caused it to wrench painfully in the socket. He did his best to ignore the pain, driving the guard roughly onto the ground even as he swiped the pistol from his holster with one smooth motion as the guard's weight fell from his back.

The guard hit the ground heavily, but Kosso knew he'd be back up within only a few seconds. That was something he'd have to deal with later, however. Instead he turned to bring the gun to bear on the other guard. Hopefully Tanya had taken care of his gun, or Kosso could expect a bullet crashing through his forehead any second now.

While not a trained assassin, there was something to be said about the System Alliance Marine Corps unarmed combat training regimen. As the commotion started across the room as Kosso engaged his guard, Tanya's fingers were flicking into motion, completing the sequence for an Incineration attack. Her omni-tool sprang to life at hip level, launching the scorching projectile into the gut of the drell who was instinctively focused on the immediate threat - namely, the guy kicking the shit out of his companion.The searing, scorching heat of the projectile ate its way quickly through the man's suit and scorched the drell's scaly hide, no doubt causing excruciating pain to the bodyguard as the flames splashed across his abdomen, no doubt torching the softer inner layer of skin. Tanya considered herself lucky that she wasn't another step closer, or the flames would have licked her, as well, and she was in no hurry to find out how flame retardant her dress was. She prepared to elbow the drell across the head, but instead was surprised by a well-placed punch to her own head, the surprise hit causing her vision to blacken and a sharp pain to fill her head. Somehow, her 'friend' had recovered quickly and retaliated. As she staggered and recovered, the drell's hand was already going for the pistol at his hip, and he was attempting to move back to give himself space.

Knowing that there were but a second to react, Tanya hurled her full glass at the drell's head, causing the bodyguard to duck to the side with impressive reflexes. It was conventional wisdom to try to go for the gun, but Tanya knew that most people remained too focused on it, as it was clearly the key to winning a fight. Instead, she charged into him, throwing her braced arm into the drell's neck as her momentum carried them both into the wall, rattling a picture. Not offering a chance for him to recover or bring his weapon to bear, Tanya grabbed the drell's forearm and smashed it into the wall as she brought her knee up hard into the drell's burnt abdomen, again and again. It didn't matter how tough you were; you felt that. The drell doubled cover, and Tanya uppercut him in the throat, choking him as the vicious blow collapsed his windpipe. She tried to react when he retaliated with punch to her kidney, the impact rattling her spine. Tanya cried out, and as she started to recover, arms were around her, running back into her chair. The two collapsed upon one another, the drell went to bring his weapon to point to be rewarded with a headbutt and a knee to the groin, the combined effect moving his gun off target. Tanya was quick to activate her omni-blade, driving it into the drell's side. With a final shove, Tanya forced the drell off of her, and she hurried to secure the drell's weapon. He groaned, blood dripping between clinched, webbed fingers, and Tanya had her weapon trained at his head, the indicator for Cryo-rounds appearing off to the side of the weapon in the holographic indicator. She didn't look to her partner as she called out to him. "And how are we doing over there?"

"Oh, I'm just dandy," her partner growled, doing his best to mask his immense relief upon seeing Tanya alive and with gun in hand. "Be better if I could use both my arms, but I take what I can get." Kosso's right arm hung uselessly at his side, his shoulder grossly misshapen. He knew at a glance that it was dislocated. Dislocated limbs were a common problem among the limber, ever-twisting Drell, and he'd dealt with this several times before. The first time it happened was on Metgos, he recalled suddenly, the second mission we ever shared. I yelled when she locked the joint back into place, and she just smiled and told me I was being overly-dramatic... He felt the memory welling up from within, threatening to engulf him. A good memory, despite all the phantom pain that would come with it, but he would do best to leave it resting for now. He swung, his good arm outstretched with pistol in hand. When he pulled the trigger, the soft, professional thrum was enough to jolt him out of the rising dream.

The guard had been tenacious, that was for sure. Even after the beating he'd taken, the Drell had already been working his way back onto sure footing, his eyes focused on Kosso. The bullet caught him between the eyes; at this range, it would have been impossible for Kosso to miss. The guard's body jerked once, violent and spastic, before it collapsed into one immobile, bloody heap. The crack of the gunshot echoed once through the study before fading. Kosso wasn't worried. This study was privvy to too many secrets to be anything less than completely soundproof, and even if anyone outside did hear, they'd just chalk it up to another muffled bout of lightning, a product of the storm still raging outside the ship.

"Put a bullet in yours too." He called to his partner. "Even wounded, he's faster than he looks. Don't give him the chance." His eye caught movement on the other side of the room as Luek stirred, his great luminous body sliding subtly across the floor where he had fallen and cowered during the fighting. He was reaching for the underside of one of his many ornately carved desks. A hidden alarm, no doubt. Kosso strode over and stomped down on the offending tentacle, his good arm bringing his gun to rest over Luek's body. "Close, but not fast enough. You just sit tight until we figure out what to do with you." He kicked the Hanar into a corner, allowing himself a small grin at the wet, squishy sound the crime lord's body made when his foot made contact. He called out again to Tanya, not daring to move his eyes from his new prisoner. "When you're finished up over there, you mind helping me with this arm? It helps to have at least two hands."

Tanya's eyes didn't leave the wounded drell. He was a dangerous adversary, to be sure, and was waiting for her to slip up. She had to hand it to Luek; he hired some dedicated, tough bastards. She flinched at the gunshot, semi-expecting it but given how quiet and serene things had been up until a few moments ago, and the fact she had not anticipated a fight unless things went terribly wrong was somewhat jarring. It wasn't to say she wasn't prepared, as evidenced by the fact it was the bodyguard and not her bleeding on the floor, but she had rather hoped to have gotten and out without complication.

Kosso instructed her to kill her adversary, who looked up back at her with surprisingly cool eyes. He obviously heard Kosso order Tanya to shoot him, and wasn't content to wait for death passively. The drell began to lurch forward, his hand beginning to shoot out. He was quick, like a viper. But Tanya was quicker, her finger already tense of the trigger. The handgun barked in her hands, the positive grip keeping the recoil managed as the weapon discharged, the round freezing tissue immediately upon penetrating the drell's eye and back through his skull. Tanya trained her weapon on Luek, ignoring the sound of shattering brain matter when the body struck the floor. She wasn't about to lose any sleep over killing an "innocent" bodyguard, both drell were employed by a nasty bastard and it was really no different than the Blue Suns back on Omega. Mercenaries didn't get very far by being soft in this galaxy, after all.

She approached the desk, and only now took a moment to spare a glance at Kosso's arm. "Fuck. I haven't seen an arm do that since Private Lewis took a nasty spill down a cliff." she approached her partner, sparing a look at the hanar, not trusting it. "Keep on eye on that bastard, will you? I'd rather not get throttled while I do this." she said, placing her pistol down on the desk and grabbing Kosso's elbow in one hand and his shoulder in the other. "Try not to cry like a bitch, okay? On three. One-"

With a sudden twist of the arm and a forceful shove of the shoulder, Tanya wrenched the unsightly bulge back into its proper socket with a wet cracking sound. She kept supporting him until she felt him begin to move the arm on his own. That was a bloody relief. "You'll want to get Roland to look at that later, but let's deal with the immediate matter." she scooped up the pistol once more off the table and trained it on the hanar. "The way I see it, we can't just leave him behind. The moment we turn our backs, he's going to have his entire security team on us. Even if we got off the ship, he'd doubtless be looking to find us. I'd rather not find my neck broken from some hit man I run into at the liquor store." she said, darting a quick look at Kosso. "Besides, it seems to me you waited a long time for this moment. Don't let it go to waste."

"You have a gift for causing pain, my dear." Kosso muttered, flexing his newly aligned arm and wincing a bit as the tendons stretched. It ached, and the shoulder was still stiff and difficult to move, but at least he could use his arm. At this point, he'd have to take what he could get. He was still somewhat shocked; he'd half expected their plan to fall apart in this room, fearing the two bodyguards would prove too quick and too deadly for them to overcome. The fact that they'd made it through the ordeal with only a fucked-up arm and a few bruises to show for it was a testament to their skill. Or our luck. Gods willing, we still have some left. Somewhere high above the glass ceiling, lightning flashed, as if the gods deigned to disagree.

Tanya apparently had no qualms about killing their unarmed host, much to Kosso's surprise. Given their past history, he'd expected an argument, more angry words to drown them both in wasted time and squandered energy. But the young, idealistic ex-marine he was familiar with seemed different here, in the belly of the beast. In the thick of the mission, with danger at every side, she was hardened, a stone-cold marine despite the party dress and perfume. Despite their disagreements, he'd always known she was both smart and pragmatic, and she was proving it here. She knew what had to be done.

Luek, on the other hand, did not agree. "This one must applaud your cleverness. This one was caught quite unaware by your charming act." He stated simply, his words carefully expressionless. It was if the last few minutes hadn't even happened, and they were still discussing business over drinks. "But you do not want to kill this one."

Kosso's finger tightened slightly on the trigger. "On the contrary, there is nothing I'd like more."

"Of that, this one is sure. But it does not change the facts. You need this one if you are to access its riches."

Kosso's face was cold and still as he gestured Tanya towards one of the study's walls. "I wouldn't be so sure. 'Ms. Piers,' you'll find the safe behind that coral panel there, the third from the left. There's probably a hidden button around the frame."

Luek was undeterred. "You may know where the safe is, yes...but you cannot hope to open it. Not in time. This one has other guards, waiting belowdecks should they be needed. Once those two there-" he gestured towards the two dead bodies with one insolent flick of a tentacle, apparently uninterested, "-fail to check in at the routine time, the others will come. And they will not be swayed by honeyed words and cheap tricks. This one can get the safe open for you...but only while it is alive, of course."

Though his face was impassive as ever, Kosso seethed inside. He didn't know what he'd expected to happen once they'd gotten to this point, with Luek at their mercy, but it wasn't this. Instead of begging for his life or reeling in shock as his closest guards were killed, the arrogant Hanar was still trying to manipulate events in his favor, as calm as he had ever been. The worst part was, his words were not so far-fetched. Time was of the essence, and now wasn't the time for rash, potentially damning actions, as much as Kosso's finger itched on the trigger. "Alright then. Talk."

"The safe has three doors, three levels of security. Perhaps it might be possible for one to force their way through all three, yes, perhaps...but why do so when you have the keys. The keycode to the first door is 17392. Consider it a gift to prove this one's cooperation."

Kosso nodded at Tanya, albeit reluctantly. "Might as well go ahead. If it sets off an alarm, Luek knows we'll kill him within seconds." As Tanya went about her part of the job, Kosso activated his communicator, careful not to let his gun leave its place above Luek. He opened a communication channel with the rest of the team. "I'm really hoping you guys weren't lying about taking care of the security room, or me and the socialite will be soon be entertaining a host of very angry mercenaries. We've taken care of Luek and located the safe, now we're going to need someone looking after us while we get it open. There should be a hell of a lot of camera feeds in that security center; one of you should commandeer them. We need an eye on the rest of the ship, someone to let us know if we or anyone else on the team is about to get any unexpected company. Can you guys do that?"
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Dervish
Raw
Avatar of Dervish

Dervish Let's get volatile

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Nos Astra, Illium, Several Days Prior...

That took care of a huge chunk of Tanya's cut from the last job.

5,600 credits later, Tanya was now the reluctant owner of a fine strapless black leather and silver silk dress, a grey mink scarf (or more likely, some other terrestrial animal from an asari colony that was labeled as mink for human customers), a large ammolite pendant and the nicest pair of shoes that didn't involve large heels she could find, as well as a video tutorial for applying the horrifically overpriced makeup and cobalt blue nail polish she purchased. It wasn't an ideal situation, that much was certain. But if the heist was going to work, she had to look the part. She spent several hours scouring the extranet for rich fashions, vids of how millionaires acted, and brushing up on the bios of several of the very affluent people who would likely be in attendance. It was mind numbing and tedious, only made bearable with the liberal ingestion of hard liquor and periodic breaks to work on a new painting. Despite how she felt about Kosso's underhanded behaviour during the proposals, she wasn't going to let personal feelings get in the way of completing a contract and getting everyone home alive. If everything went smoothly, everyone would be in and out without issue, but that was rarely ever the case. If their cover was blown, the whole team would be fucked and caught in a situation where they were unarmed and armourless, not a winning combination against crime lords and their personal security detail.

Leaving the market district to a more scenic, open area, Tanya reflected on the state of Nova and how things stood with Kosso. She had believed he was someone she could trust, someone who readily was looking out for her well-being both on and off mission. It made his juvenile attempt to discourage the team from picking the Taetrus job that much more confounding, as it wasn't like the man who went out of his way to check up on her when she was wounded and seemed genuinely distraught about her being shot. Tanya couldn't shake the feelings the drell had used her, to what extend she couldn't be sure.

Oh, speak of the bastard. she thought bitterly as sure enough, looking out over the lower levels in the open Illum sky was Kosso himself, very much alone and not-at-all looking like he was doing anything particularly pressing with the stop over in Nos Astra. Every fiber in Tanya's body wanted to continue walking, to ignore him like she had since their altercation in the CIC. She'd do the damn job, even smile and play nice as the rich bitch that was supposed to be her cover, but past that, nothing said she had to pay heed to the man outside of her duties.

Yet, she knew that she couldn't let the boil fester and rot without lancing it to some degree. She knew, deep down, that the mission would fail without some form of mending to their relationship, or at least, throwing the discord out into the open.

"Oh, for fuck sake..." she said to herself as she turned towards Kosso, silently playing a dirge in her mind as she approached. It was exactly where she didn't want to be, and her pride was taking enough of a hit to be the first one to break the icy silence that enveloped them both.

She approached the railing beside him, keeping a few feet difference, more than a little symbolic of the rift that had formed. After several moments, she finally found it in her to speak. "I suppose we can't keep ignoring each other, pretending the problem doesn't exist. If your little heist is going to work, then the two of us need to at least find an armistice." she said, watching the people on the level below going about their business. "You want to explain how trying to scare people away from my proposition with speculation and unfounded paranoia was exactly going to help anything? The team's not full of idiots, Kosso. The point of the briefings was to pitch the idea to the team, just the known facts, and let them figure out what was best for the team.

"Instead, you try to make me look like an idiot who is going to get everyone killed and insult everyone's intelligence at the same time by assuming they wouldn't have come to the conclusion that my job wasn't what was best going forward without your attempts at heavy handed manipulation. So what I can't figure out is why you decided to pick right then, without any indication you were going to go at me like that, to turn the damn briefing into a competition to feed your own damn ego. I wasn't even going to comment on this damn heist because there was the risk of showing bias for my own job over yours, and you know what? I wouldn't have even minded that the vote convincingly picked your job over the one I proposed because that's what Nova decided, not us." She was launching into a rant, uncharacteristically emotionally charged than she usually dared let on, several day's worth of anger and frustration giving out like a dam that had finally failed. She didn't care.

"The team's bigger than both of us, and we aren't supposed to get personal over the work we do. You don't know any of that shit you said in protest about the turians going to own us, you just threw it out there to try and make people shit themselves so there would be a bias in your favour. They would have likely picked this mission over mine, regardless of you being an asshole. So I ask you; was it worth it? You come to me looking for support, and the first thing you do is try and turn everyone's opinion against me. You sure know how to engender loyalty." she said, finally getting out what was eating at her for the past several days.

Kosso didn't look at her for a few minutes. Instead, he continued to stare out at the Illium skyline, arms draped over the railing and back bent. Tanya's words echoed faintly into his ear, as if drifting from somewhere far away. They barely registered within Kosso's focused mind. All of his attention was concentrated on a building across the skyway, one of the shimmering glass monoliths that made Illium into the glimmering metropolis that it was. More specifically, he was staring at a particular window, a floor-to-ceiling at about eye level. Three from the center, two down. There, lit halfway between the evening sun and the shadows of the room beyond, she was standing.

At this distance, he couldn't see the expression on her face, only the tint of her blue skin, the outline of her form against the glass. But he knew it was her. He'd recognize that shape anywhere, at any distance. And this was, after all, their ritual. Years ago, whenever he thought there might be an issue, troubles on the horizon, he'd take a walk around the city to give himself a chance to think. Always, he would find himself here, at this very spot. He'd stand against the railing. And she would stand there, across the way, in their apartment, lips inches from the glass. He would pretend to be watching the sunset, but his eyes would always be drawn to her, and hers to him. They would just...watch each other, the chasm between them somehow comforting, a quick breather from the normally breakneck pace of their relationship. They would be locked there for hours, until the sun had sent, and then for a little while more through the haze of neon city lights, until he had had his fill of whatever he came here for, and he would wander home, back into her arms.

And now here he was again, in his spot, and there she was in hers. Just like old times. A memory, he thought, a bit sad and a bit angry. Nothing more. But it was nice to pretend. Just to indulge himself for a minute, get swept up in all the feelings he couldn't quite identify, just get lost in the moment. Across the steady stream of cars, she raises one hand, places it against the glass. He feels one of his own hands twitch in response. The urge to return the gesture, to raise a hand in acknowledgement, was almost overwhelming. But reality was still hanging around him, along his periphery, and it could not be ignored. With a quick clenching of a fist to steady his nerves, he finally turned to look at Tanya, the memory broken. He felt his pupils dilate back to their original state as he spoke with more focus than he actually had, hoping Tanya hadn't noticed him zoning out.

"I suppose I'm some kind of idiot, because I assumed that the point of that mission briefing was to discuss our options and collectively determine the best course of action for the team. Now, however, I understand that it was just some sort of pissing match between you and me. And I didn't play fair." He brought his gaze back to the skyline. She was gone, of course, the apartment window dark and shuttered. He focused his eyes on the dimming sky instead, continuing with a frustrated sigh. "This isn't a goddamn game, Tanya. You should know just as well as everyone else that the decisions we make as a team affect everyone on our crew. There is no 'bias.' My life hinges on our mission choices just as much as yours does, and I'll be damned if I have to throw my safety away for a mission I don't agree with without at least bringing up my thoughts on it. And yes, I do believe your mission is risky. Not the mission itself, that all seems fine. But if you really think the hierarchy has our best interests in mind, you're more delusional than I thought.

"You're not in Alliance anymore Tanya. Things are different. You might be used to having an entire army, hell, an entire fucking government watching your back, but now that's all gone. All you have now is Nova, and trust me, that equates to shit-all in the grand scheme of things. The galaxy is fucking massive, Tanya, and it doesn't care for the little guy. If we slip up, it'll crush us, grind us into dust. No one comes to the funeral, no one remembers our names. Quite frankly, the odds are stacked against us. We can't afford any mistakes.

"Trusting the Hierarchy not to give us a raw deal is a mistake. To them, we're just tools, ready to be used and discarded whenever they fell it's necessary. You think we have any value to them? There's a million other little merc groups just like us out there, cavorting around the galaxy and thinking they're hot shit, and I'm sure the majority of them would jump all over a job like this, too focused on the prize to take note of the consequences." He sighed again, straightening a bit as his eyes etched the city's skyline behind tinted frames. "If...if we get big, make a name for ourselves, make sure everyone knows better than to fuck with us...then things might be different. But they're not. As long as we're the underdogs, we have to assume that everyone else is looking to see us fail. To think otherwise is just setting us up for failure.

"Oh, and stop acting so goddamned high and mighty. You say the team's not full of idiots, but you certainly act like it. You really believe that my words at the briefing swayed everyone's opinion? Am I a serpent, leading poor little lambs astray? The crew can make rational decisions for themselves, Tanya. Stop acting like they're children, too weak-willed to resist my charisma."

He straightened fully now, turning to Tanya with an expression unreadable. "And as for the topic of loyalty..." he said conversationally, as if they were simply having a pleasant discussion about the weather, "I'd assumed our little agreement to watch each other's backs had been nullified. You certainly made that clear when you went to Tzvi with the mission details instead of me, not one day after you said you'd keep me in the loop. If you don't trust me Tanya, I understand, but don't lead me on. It's simply impolite."

His piece said, he settled back into his place against the railing, evening sun glinting darkly across his shades.

Tanya tried to look at what Kosso was staring at before deciding he was being a stubborn fool and she turned around, resting her back against the railing, her arms crossed. Her jaw was clenched as she listened to the drell speak, knowing that some of what he was saying made sense, but the man was paranoid, deluded, and full enough on his own hubris that he was liable to choke to death at any minute. Her fingers dug into her arms, and she stared straight ahead, not wanting to look at the green-scaled lizard man lest she do something stupid. "Thank you for making it abundantly clear to me I'm not a part of the Alliance anymore, Kosso. How silly of me for confusing a regiment of hundreds with a piss-pot of a small handful of us that barely seem to be able to grasp how to operate as a team without getting pulled into petty bullshit." she intoned sarcastically.

"And don't put words in my mouth, I'm not the one who's too insecure with his own goddamn operation that he feels the need to insult my judgement in front of everyone else while making his shit smell like roses. Like I said, I don't give a shit that your mission was voted for, it's the fact you don't seem to have enough respect for me to trust that I am not just throwing a mission pitch out there without giving the risks a moment consideration. You got a problem with the way I do things? Take it up with me in person. Don't fucking throw stones while everyone else is present. And what the fuck," she said, turning towards the drell, her face taunt with anger.

"Is this about jealousy because I contacted Tzvi instead of plotting every goddamn little thing with you? Did I break your fragile little feelings because I choose to trust more people than just you? It's not like we had much of a chance to talk around the time, and we're supposed to be trying to work together as a team, in case you mistake the concept of team as us verses everyone else. And I did trust you, you insufferable ass. I was glad you came to me because you were the only person who thought enough look after me after Roland finished fixing me up. I just didn't think you were the jealous type that doesn't like the concept of sharing me with others. Don't worry, Kosso. I'm not that into girls." she sneered, turning her head away from the drell. "You think I think everyone's a goddamn idiot, and you're the one who decided to preface our agreement with more or less saying," Tanya lowered her voice, making it more raspy. "'I can't trust anybody else because they're emotional idiots who have death wishes, severe emotional trauma, and they're all self-serving. You're like me! Let's be friends'." the woman sighed, shaking her head. When she spoke again, her tone was normal, the biting edge gone.

"You misunderstand me, Kosso. I want to trust the others, and if that means building bridges, then it's what I am going to do. It doesn't mean I intended to cut you out of everything, I just didn't think you expected me to tell you every little detail that's related to work. I certainly didn't meant to imply I thought the others were swayed by your biting words at the briefing, but that it seemed like you were counting on it. Maybe it's just the way you are. Maybe you're just paranoid, and it's clear we have two very different ideas of what it means to be mercenaries. Why is it we can't just meet half way, Kosso?" she asked. "You asked me to trust you in the medbay, and I chose to do that. Just because I went to Tzvi instead of you about the job wasn't to spite you or keep things out, but because how is it going to look to everyone else if the two of us do everything together, making the same decisions and speaking with the same voice? They're going to think that we're cutting them out, Kosso. That the two of us are conspiring with one another while not trusting anybody else. I don't want to live like that, but I was hoping that maybe you were going to be an island I could depend on when shit started to get crazy." She sighed, closing her eyes. "Look. I have a hard time connecting to anybody and I have a hard time opening up to people. I keep everyone at arm's length so I can't be hurt and nobody thinks they're close enough to ask the hard questions I'm not ready to face. You were the first person who I thought I could take that chance with on the team, and look how that turned out. Do you understand? I lost everything, and this team is the closest thing I have left to a family and I'm too afraid to let them into my life because running away is the only thing that works. I know it's stupid and I need to face shit sooner or later, but you probably know as well as I do how hard it is to let people into a life you don't think they'd understand."

When Tanya lashed back at him, Kosso couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He felt like he hadn't played fair, like he'd broken some unspoken rule by bringing up Tanya's past. That was supposed to be a topic of no discussion, as it was for every member of the crew. They had all come to Nova with an effectively clean slate, grasping for a chance at a life where no one knew the things they'd done or the people they'd been. To reference Tanya's history, to even make the slightest mention of her past life...it felt like a low blow, and honestly Kosso felt a little ashamed.

Of course, that shame quickly firmed back into anger as Tanya continued her argument. As much as he hated to admit it, most of the things Tanya was saying sounded fairly sensible (wasn't that why he'd sought her out in the first place? Because she had such a level head? He was starting to regret the whole thing now that the whole thing seemed to have had backfired on him), and she had obviously given this a lot of thought. But she was so goddamned stubborn, so fucking driven, as if this was all just some sort of mission that she just had to work through. A list of objectives to cross off, a prize to take, a home to return to once the whole thing was done. Like everything was black and white, a matter of trusting the team or not. Couldn't she see that reality was a hell of a lot more complicated than that?

Just as he was about to interrupt with his own heated opinions, however, she said something that struck him like a slap across the face.

"...because running away is the only thing that works."

"You're going to have to face this shit sooner or later!"

Her voice is sharp when it's angry. Like the sound of knife against metal. Distinct, and somehow metallic. Under other circumstances, he would love it, like every other part of her. But now its directed at him. And he doesn't want to hear it.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." He says through gritted teeth. Falsely calm, as if she can't see right through him. He rummages around through the kitchen drawer. His back to her, not having to look into her accusing eyes. Looking for the car keys instead, and having no luck. The clanking sounds of his desperate searching aren't enough to drown her out.

"Bullshit, Kosso. You can't just keep avoiding the issue. We need to talk. About the future."

He closes the drawer with more force than intended. It sounds like a gunshot, makes him flinch. He opens the next drawer down, resumes his rummaging. "You've made it perfectly clear that you don't want to talk about that. So just drop it." Where were the goddamned keys?

She moves closer. He wants nothing more than to turn and melt into her arms. Wants nothing more than to get the keys and get out of here. "Kosso, I already told you...I won't...it won't be like that." She sounds like she's on the verge of tears. That's what almost kills him, right there and then. He always thought of her as the strong one. To hear her on the verge of breaking, unable to find the right words...it's more than he can stand. "Just...let's talk about it, Kosso. About the future. About the past. About...everything. We'll stop pretending like it all doesn't matter."

He finds the keys at last, just as her hand grasps his shoulder. He shrugs it off, clutching the keyring so tightly that the metal bites into his scaly skin. Walks away, quicker than he'd like and yet not quick enough. "Going for a drive. I'll be back later." His voice is flat. Emotionless. Dead.

Her voice catches him when he reaches the front door. "You can't keep running from this, Kosso." He only hesitates for a moment. Then he walks out without looking back.


The memory came on hard and fast, catching him up within its terrible, familiar rhythm before dissolving and dropping him rudely back into the present. Kosso blinked slowly, as if to clear the sleep from his eyes. When he looked back over at Tanya, he half expected to see her there, that same disapproving look on her face, as if to say, "Still, Kosso?" But it was just the same Human ex-marine that had been chewing him out for the last few minutes, her expression slowly souring more and more as Kosso continued to remain silent.

He took a shaky breath, glancing away into the skyline for a second as he tried to calm his nerves. That...had not been a pleasant memory. Not one of the worst (He briefly saw flashes, of a hospital bed, of a loaded gun on an empty table, of many things too fast and terrible to comprehend), but certainly not one of the best. And as much as he tried to suppress the sudden nausea roiling in his stomach, it had severely shaken him up.

With the words of the memory still echoing within his head, he somehow managed to compose himself. Where the fuck had that come from!? He usually had his flashbacks under control, and when they did occur they tended not to be so vivid, so wrenching. They'd always been pretty bad, had been for a few years, but they only seemed to be getting worse. He was beginning to think he might be starting to lose it. Still, he couldn't help but feel as if the memory had come to him for a specific purpose. With an inward sigh, he realized what he had to do.

Straightening, he turned to Tanya and removed his glasses. This was the first time she (or any of the crew, for that matter) had seen him without his shades, and already he could feel the familiar anxiety that always crept in when he wasn't wearing them. Still, he forced himself to make eye contact with her, his face expressionless. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like you had been betrayed. That was never my intention." He said, plainly and honestly. "Nor was it my intention to offend you, or to make you feel like your trust would be misplaced. I get that it can be hard to trust people, for obvious reasons. But you were right when you said that we need to trust each other as a team if we're ever going to make it. So I'm sorry if I sort of fucked that up." He paused, realizing for the first time how close they were. The fact only served to compound the feelings of vulnerability that were threatening to seize his body.

"But believe me Tanya, I want what's best for this group. And I meant what I said. This line that we're walking is really fucking thin, to say the least, and one slip-up could cost us everything. I know you want to think that we can trust everyone on the crew, that we can all eventually come together to make this work. But I'm not so sure it'll ever work out that easily. We're all just strangers, after all. I came to you because I thought you were smart, because I thought I could trust you and that you could trust me. I still think that. What happened at the briefing wasn't personal. I was just trying to be realistic. I guess I just didn't go about it the right way. So...I'm sorry." Suddenly, he ran out of things to say. It wasn't often that he made an apology, and he was probably more than a little rusty. He wondered if she'd even believe he was being sincere. So he just lasped into silence, struggling slightly to maintain eye contact with Tanya and somehow succeeding, at least for the time being.

It was jarring, seeing Kosso's dark, weathered eyes. To Tanya's knowledge, Kosso never removed them outside of his own privacy for any reason, and no one on the ship could even fathom a guess as to what his eye colour truly was. It was a popular joke amongst the ship that Kosso didn't actually have eyes, and he could only see with his glasses on. Seeing him bare before her, willingly exposing his true self to her, Tanya found herself momentarily speechless, something of a first for her. Kosso's glasses were more armour than a stylish fashion choice, she knew. It was just something else altogether to see it in person. The drell's pain was evident as he looked at her after being pulled into a eidetic memory, catching her completely off guard. She was expecting a fight, a sarcastic retort, something to continue fueling the fire that they had started. The woman turned her head away to hide her embarrassment. Red was not a flattering colour for her. It was like seeing Kosso for the first time, not as an impenetrable wall of sarcastic wit and condescending disposition, but as someone who was afraid. The burning indignition, the anger, it was gone, snuffed out like a candle.

"I... it's okay, Kosso. I shouldn't have gone after you like that. I guess this whole trusting each other unconditionally thing is tougher than it sounds." she let out a weak laugh that could have easily been a sigh. She looked at Kosso's eyes, her own grey ones lacking the hard edge like steel like earlier, appearing much softer and sadder. "We both fucked up, we're just too damn stubborn to admit when we're wrong. I've just been so afraid of fucking up, losing control and sight of who I am. I mean, if I can't believe in myself, then how is everyone else supposed to?" She said, her legs feeling weak. She found herself a seat close at hand, and she fell into it hard, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands cradling the back of her head, facing the ground. She took a few moments to gather herself with a few deep breaths, bringing control back to herself.

"I believe you, you know. I know you want Nova to succeed, to work. It means as much to you as it does to me, and I think we both found an island to call home, to feel safe at. I don't want to be cast out at sea again, so to speak." she looked back up at Kosso, her face drawn into a long frown. "I know it's not going to be an easy thing, maybe it's not even possible, but I can't stop trying to believe that we can all be something better, to break past the shit that drew us into this desperate gamble we call a merc outfit. I'm... glad you came to me, Kosso. I'd be lying if I said I had always hoped you would, the dark, shady drell who keeps everyone apart from him even more than I do showing me who he really was. You were always among the more professional of everyone, and you always seemed to have a way out of anything. Nothing ever caught you off guard... you were, I don't know, a safe bet. Stable, I guess is the word, like a mountain. I guess I mentally latched on that I forgot that sometimes even mountains have loose rocks. I shouldn't have gone after you like that, but your apology is accepted all the same. I just hope you can extend me the same courtesy." she sighed. "It might take me a little while to really build the trust back up again, to not feel exposed. But I'm going to try. I don't quit on things I care about."

Kosso smirked a bit as he slipped his glasses back on, relishing the chance to shield his eyes. They slid back into place easily, resting among the ridges of his face where they belonged and setting his nerves at ease. "No, you don't, do you?" He said, shaking his head slightly in quiet fascination. He didn't think he'd ever met someone like Tanya, someone who was obviously smart enough to see the filth that covered the galaxy and still held onto the belief that with enough passion and enough drive, something good could come of it. Normally, Kosso would simply think she was a fool. Now, however, the only emotion he could muster was some uncomfortable mixture of admiration and sadness. He didn't agree. Couldn't agree. He'd seen too much, done too much, to really believe that Nova would make it through the gauntlet unscathed. But maybe, in some fantasy world where that was possible...well, Tanya was probably the kind of person who would make it happen.

A not-uncomfortable silence fell over them then; He leaning against the railing with crossed arms, covered eyes on the darkening sky, and she on a nearby bench, head resting within one hand. Kosso felt like the runner at the end of a long marathon, his little foray into emotional vulnerability leaving him practically winded. He wondered idly if he'd regret it later. Probably. He knew from experience that things like that had a tendency to come around later and bite him in the ass. But for the moment the effort seemed to be appreciated by Tanya, who had cooled down and now appeared to be on better terms with him. He'd put out one fire, and if that meant having to fight more in the future, well then that was just something he'd have to deal with.

"There's one other thing you should know. About Kahje." He finally broke the silence, eyes still fixed on the clouds. "I know Luek. Personally, I mean. He and I go way back. And we're not exactly friends." His words were careful, precise. His early confession had been made on the spur of the moment, but this one was a result of careful consideration. If things went to shit on Kahje, it would be better that Tanya knew the truth know rather than later. "Don't worry, he won't recognize me. I doubt he even remembers that I exist. If I thought there was any chance that our 'history' would jeopardize the mission, I wouldn't have made the plans.

Tanya said nothing as she regarded Kosso steadily, nodding for him to continue. A part of her wasn't surprised that there was a personal angle with this mission for Kosso, and the other part of her was curious how this development came to be. She listened intently as Kosso shared more information regarding this contract. She doubted Kosso would have willingly put everyone at risk, like Kasyra did, but she was eager to see how he was going to explain a mission where the quarry they were supposed to deceive knew who he was.

"I was furious at Kasyra for getting us involved with the Blue Suns when she had her own bone to pick with them, and I meant what I said. 'You don't mix personal business with real business. End of discussion.' So maybe I look like a bit of a hypocrite." He fixed his steely gaze on her, voice as solid and unwavering as granite. "But I'm not. Trust me, he's going to get what's coming to him. I don't know what kind of mental image you have of the guy after the briefing, but let me tell you, he's worse than that. He's one of the most vile, cowardly, self-serving pieces of shit I've ever had the misfortune of meeting in this wide galaxy, and whatever pain or loss our actions on his yacht might cause him, he deserves all of it and more. But it is only business. I planned this mission because I think it's Nova's best bet, not because I want to fulfill my own selfish fantasies. I'm not out for revenge.

"I'm telling you this because we want to be able to trust each other. So here's the first test. I'm trusting you to believe me, hell, I need you to believe me: my own feelings about Luek won't get in the way of our job. Business is business, and this is a job like any other. I could have just kept this a secret, and everything still would have played out the same. I just figured you had a right to know." He shrugged, looking off into the distance again.

After several moments of consideration, mostly just for effect, Tanya smiled conspiratorially before raising up and rejoining Kosso at the balcony's railing. "And what job is never personal, Kosso? If Luek's the slimey wanker that you paint him as, well, I'd say we'd be doing a galaxy a great disservice for not fucking with him. I appreciate your confidentiality on this, I know it can't be exactly the easiest thing, but I want you to know that I'm still behind you on this. I trust your judgement, and the fact you let me know instead of springing up up during the mission is what matters. I wouldn't have cared about Kassy's personal angle nearly as much if she just leveled with the team before we even deployed on Omega. I'll keep your personal involvement with Luek between us, don't worry about that. I leave it up to you if you think it's something the others should know." she frowned, looking out over the balcony at the sea of asari and the minority of aliens on the catwalks below. "Although, I suspect the reception from some of them may be less than stellar. Distractions before a mission don't help anyone."

Tanya drummed her fingers on the railing, her face a mask of anxious concentration. Eventually, she spoke. "Okay, my own confession time, since we're getting personal. I'd be lying if I said the whole Taetrus mission on my part didn't have a bit of personal importance to me, and not because of the Captain. I'm not sure how much you know about my history, but my father was killed over Shanxi during the counter-attack during the First Contact War when the turians took his ship out. I was nine at the time, so you can imagine how much it sucks to find out that the dad you loved to death was killed in first contact with aliens in a big, wide galaxy we were just discovering. It took me a while after the truce to really come to terms with the fact the turians were just upholding what they understood to be the law instead of militant assholes who slaughtered thousands for whatever reason, my father included." she sighed, smiling in thought. "My father was one of those people who were so excited at the prospect of discovering intelligent life among the stars, to live through a whole new era of human history. You'd mistake him for a child when you got him talking about how wonderful it was being among the first humans to settle outside of our solar system, nothing seemed to get him down. Anyways, I'm getting off point." she apologized. "My father used to tell me when I was old enough about our family history, and how nations whose armies killed some of our ancestors in war were now our friends and so on so forth, but in the end, we're really not so different than the man on the other side of the battlefield. I tried to apply that to the turians, but... they were too alien, and it took a long time for me to come to terms with that my father's advice still applied. Still," she said, turning back to face Kosso.

"It's one thing to tell yourself that and another to believe it. I haven't really had contact with the turian military or government at all, and when they offered us that job I wanted to see if I could kind of bury that hatchet and find peace over my father's death by seeing the more... human side to the turians. I understand military operations and doctrine, and I figured by working cooperatively with the turians, I'd be able to appreciate them as something more than the powerful military of unknowable aliens that killed my father. It's one thing to know a turian, like Tillus, on a personal level. It's another to know what their government's like. I know it's screwed up logic, and it doesn't effect my judgement one way or another, but I guess I'm just looking for an opportunity to break that wall down and resolve something that's been troubling me since I was a little girl. Figured you had the right to know." she said with a sad smile. "Hopefully that illuminates a part of the reason I took what happened in that briefing to heart. It wasn't just about the job, it was about finding closure of sorts. Doesn't make our little spat any more proper."

Kosso just shook his head, getting a bit frustrated. "You don't have to give them any credit, you know. See, this is exactly what I'm talking about: The Turians were overzealous, so blinded by their commitment to a set of 'rules' that they started a war with an innocent species instead of seeking understanding. Your people didn't deserve what happened to them. They had no reason to think they weren't alone in the galaxy, and they barely had any warning before the Hierarchy started firing on them. I would think that would serve as a suitable wake-up call. Nothing says 'this galaxy is out to kill you' more than 30 million tons of mass-accelerated metal smashing through your advance fleet." Kosso sighed, rubbing one hand over his scaly head. "But that doesn't seem to deter you. Despite the fact that your first introduction to citadel space was literally at the end of a gun barrel, you can sit here next to me to day not even twenty years later and talk about 'appreciating' the very same organization that killed your father. I just...I don't get it." He gestured emptily at the dark horizon. "And say we do go to Taetrus? We kill a bunch of Turians, for the Turians, and everything goes off without a hitch...what does that prove? That they aren't all bad? Of course they aren't. But when we're talking about an intergalactic power like the Hierarchy, we're not talking about individuals anymore. All it takes is a few bad men to turn the whole thing to shit, and in the Hierarchy, I'm sure there's more than just a few. How can you really think-

He cut off suddenly, realizing that his words were once again turning heated. Why was it so hard to talk to Tanya without getting into a fight? He sighed again, leaning against the railing with crossed arms. "All I'm saying is: in a galaxy as wide and deep and utterly fucking dangerous as the one we're in now, the only thing you can really rely on is your own perception of the people around you. The Hierarchy has several billion Turians scurrying around the galaxy; same for the Asari and the Salarians and everyone else. There's no way you can look at them and assign such arbitrary values like 'trustworthy' or 'honorable.' All you can do is judge the individuals, and hope you get it right. And I don't know about you, but I try not to rely too much on concepts as flimsy and dangerous as 'hope.'"

He chuckled softly. "Trust is a dangerous game. Hell, we can't even trust everyone on the Tyrus. As much as I'm sure you want to trust our team, you obviously don't. At least not completely, not yet. And if you're not sure you can rely on the people you share a ship with, how could you be so optimistic about the intentions of everyone else in the galaxy?" He lapsed into silence, trying to search for more words and failing. Tanya was smart, so why couldn't she see what he did? The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he got. It didn't help that he couldn't figure out why he cared so much in the first place.

"I'm sorry about your father." He said finally. "He sounds like he was a..." The word 'fool' almost left his lips before he caught it. "...good man." The words were hollow. Kosso was sure he was a good man, in as much as 'good' could be quantified. But he couldn't deny his original assessment of the man. He'd spent his life watching the stars, wondering, dreaming, hoping for something greater and more profound. Passed off the burden of hope to his impressionable young daughter. He'd probably kept that childlike wonder all the way to the end, to that instant when cold, hard reality caught up to him above the surface of Shanxi. Was there any other definition for a fool?

The night is quiet. Kosso sits within his own special place, atop the dry dome. Amid the cooling towers and sleeping-seabirds, he rests. Pokes tenderly at his bruises. Gasps quietly in pain as his finger slips accidentally against a gash on his leg. The seabirds raise their drowsy eyes at his exclamation, before tucking their heads away beneath their wings, uncaring.

He should be sleeping, too. Kirn will be expecting him early in the morning, as always. Five minutes tardy will mean another bruise; ten, another gash. But he can't help himself. Up here, no one can find him. He can relax, if only for a moment. Things are different here.

Slowly, he leans back. Head comes to rest against the silently humming generator at his back. The stars are spread across the clear night sky like spilled pearls. They shine in bands and patterns too large and deep to be knowable; he attempts to trace them anyway with his eyes, counting. Wondering. The rhythmic beat of the ocean, drifting from far below, lulls him slowly to sleep. The shapes of the stars are still emblazoned within the darkness of his mind as his eyes close, already dreaming.


Kosso shook the memory away, angry at its intrusion and all the implications that came with it. He had a special kind of hatred for those memories, the ones that reminded him of a time when he was young and naive. How could he ever have been so stupid? And yet, the steady drumming of the Kahjean sea still echoed in his ears, a remnant of the fading memory. Once, that sound may have been calming, but now the it just seemed sinister. Ominous, even, given the fact that he'd soon be returning to that very planet, one he'd thought he never set foot on again. He glanced up at the sky, but brilliant city lights drowned out the stars, leaving him with nothing but a dirty haze to gaze at as he pondered.

The engineer didn't interrupt Kosso's raising tempo and pitch of voice, the tectonic shift of fury that dwelt within the drell. She listened to him as she gazed down at the passing crowds below, gently wringing her wrist to give her hands something to do, as she usually did when she felt vulnerable. Usually, on the Tyrus, there was something to tinker with, something to paint, anything to captivate her attention long enough to put her hands to the purpose of something creative and purposeful rather than destructive and unsure. She didn't want to fight, especially concerning where her father was concerned, so she let Kosso's words, his lack of empathy wash over her. What had happened to the drell that he was so distrustful and paranoid about the galaxy, about everyone? She was not a fool, she had seen the worst the galaxy had to offer... but she also had seen the best. It was something to strive for. To Kosso's credit, he tried to salvage the situation, feeling utterly uncomfortable, without conviction behind his sympathies. At least it was a start. He was trying.

"Yeah. He was." she said after a time. It hurt thinking about her father like this, to have his honour and integrity questioned by this dark, troubled man who didn't know a damn thing about him. Pain at the loss surged through her, like a fresh wound. She closed her eyes, inhaling in a jagged, uneven intake of strange alien air as her body trembled ever so slightly. She tried to bury her feelings; it did her no favour to expose herself like that to Kosso- to anyone. She'd already shed enough tears over Lieutenant-Commander Eric Carson, she made her peace. So why the fuck did it hurt so much? She took a moment to compose herself, running a hand down her face, sniffing in anticipation for the obnoxiously unflattering runny nose that went hand in hand with tears.

"If you don't try to move on from the past, and the other side doesn't, where does that leave you?" she asked rhetorically, staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused. "My father died doing what he believed in, and he would have been happy to see how the conflict panned out. It's just... it's a damn shame he still isn't here to see it. It's something of a Carson family tradition to serve and die in military service. Not everyone comes home from war, but it takes a real man to stick up for his convictions. My father always said that you needed to be prepared to die to defend what you love, because not everyone would do the same. Humans have been real shitty to each other over our history, Kosso. Anything terrible that happens in this galaxy, no matter how unfathomable, no matter how unbelievably depraved and viscous, we lived through that and more on Earth. Countless millions died climbing to be where we are, and for once, after thousands of years of history, humanity finally stands united. It wouldn't have happened if people didn't set aside their hatred and fear of one another. We've seen our share of genocide and war, of slavery and dictatorships. Someone would always try to oppress someone else, and it was times like that that someone had to stand up against the oppression, to say 'enough is enough'." Tanya said.

"The best thing that ever happened to us as a people was when we discovered that Prothean ruin on Mars. It told us that somebody else was out there in the inky voids of space. It told us that if we didn't get our shit together and stand united, we'd lose against someone who did. Do you know how incredible it is to see centuries of nations and ethnic groups who have done nothing but hate each other join together, united for the first time in history? That's what the Systems Alliance is, Kosso. It's not a fractured government, it's not a group of militant assholes who want to make the galaxy kneel before them. It's humanity at its finest, the humanity that will stand up against oppression and not back down when things look bleak. The humanity that's not afraid to reach out and put aside animosities for the greater good. Yes, we're impulsive, we're reckless, and we're overly ambitious. We're learning where we belong in a galaxy that less than a generation ago, we didn't know existed." she looked at Kosso, her grey eyes boring into his sunglasses. "If we weren't willing to try and find peace with the turians, to forgive their arrogance and their mistake, where would we be? Another rogue race like the batarians who don't know how to forgive, ready to lash out against any who have wronged them."

Kosso scowled, shook his head in frustration when Tanya told him the inspiring story of how Humanity had all worked to get their collective shit together, the emotion breaking through despite his best efforts. "Well if you have so much faith that your people can keep this galaxy in order, they're more than welcome to the damn thing, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe your people really are different, really are special, if they think they can put all their base savagery aside just because they've met some new and weird-looking friends. But don't fault me if I think there'll come a time when you realize that every other race has had the same thought process, only to wind up back in the thick of all things they'd thought they'd left behind. Just because you change the scenery doesn't mean you change the game; the galaxy is just as vicious as any planet the spacefaring races have left behind, seeking something "better." Moreso, even." Tanya just ignored his little rant, dismissing it with one easy smile. Gods, he was really starting to hate when she did that. Was there anything that could break down her ideals?

"Kosso," she reached over, placing her hand on his wrist, an uncharacteristically intimate gesture. "What has blackened your soul so much that you refuse to see anything good about the galaxy and the people in it? In what world should it be that so many races, be they human, drell, asari, turian, hanar, salarian, people so impossibly different that couldn't have possibly understood each other decided to trust one another and build a galactic community where against all odds, it’s thriving and there's a peace. Look. There." She pointed down at the storefronts on the level below.

Tanya had picked out a couple, a turian man and a human woman outside of a pet store, the woman becoming animated and tugging at the turian's arm. He half-heartedly tried to protest as she indicated to some small fuzzy animal that Tanya had no idea what the hell it was. The woman leaned up, kissed the turian on the mandible, who reached up to touch the place, as if to preserve the moment. He relented, and the two went inside. "You know, there's a chance that their parents had fought one another in the First Contact War, and look at them. They don't give a shit about that, they found something in common, fell in love, and against all stupid fucking odds, are marching into a pet store to buy something that looks like a dust ball with thimbles for feet. If everyone thought the way you did, none of this would happen. We wouldn't be standing here, on an asari world, buying alien clothing that's based off of other alien's designs after eating food cooked by yet again other aliens in preparation to get flown to another planet where you're from to fuck over an alien who's been a real bastard to all sorts of other aliens. Speaking of which, what the fuck would the drell have done if the hanar didn't see hope in your people? Didn't see the potential in your kind and trusted you all into their homes?"

Kosso watched the couple enter the pet store, arm in arm. It almost seemed as if there was weight on his own arm, a limb intertwined with his, a familiar presence at his side. A memory. He grit his teeth. She's. Not. Here. But there was someone next to him. Kosso glanced down at where Tanya's hand rested atop his, as if recognizing its presence for the first time. How did it get like this? How had she gotten so close, without him even noticing? Even as his anger flared, she answered only with smiles and kind gestures. What the hell kind of game was she playing? "You know what they say: Lust knows no bounds...apparently not even those that separate species. And as for the Hanar, well...I think they got plenty of profit out of their little 'charity' act with my people." The words sounded hollow even to him.

Tanya turned to face Kosso directly. "Sure, I don't trust everyone on our team, but I'm willing to try, otherwise I wouldn't be buying a nearly 6 thousand credit outfit to try to blend in some high-society bullshit because, believe it or not, I choose to trust in you." she said, prodding the drell in the chest with a finger to punctuate her point. "I'm not an idiot Kosso; I know better than most how shitty the galaxy can be, especially after seeing what I did on Mindoir. I just choose to be a survivor and not let the fear and hatred consume me, instead focusing on this." she gestured around her. "Whatever the fuck's eating at your soul, Kosso, whatever has made you so bitter, paranoid, and jaded to whatever good the galaxy has to offer, let it go. Come outside of whatever shell you've fucking locked yourself in and smell the air. It's not as rancid as you think."

She doesn't get it, he thought, with a mixture of relief and what felt suspiciously like disappointment. She thinks she's got it all figured out, but she's so determined to trust me that she can't even see the truth when it's staring her right in the face. But even as he thought that, he felt a strange stirring inside, a yearning to tell her why she was wrong. It was wrong, it was dangerous, it went against all the resolutions he'd made, but it was still there. The need to let it all out was bubbling up from somewhere deep, setting his heart ablaze and filling his throat with apprehension. It was unstoppable, and it demanded to be spoken.

But when he turned and opened his mouth, it wasn't Tanya standing there, it was her. Her eyes were closed, her blue skin was pale and dirty in the harsh fluorescent light. There was a splotchy stain around her lips, where the orderly had failed to wipe away the blood. She was gaunt, the skin of her face stretched tight with stress even as she slept, her breaths coming too slow, ragged and rattling. She looked like death. From somewhere far away, Kosso could hear the sound of a heart monitor, chiming its damning metronome. The words died in his throat, and he pulled back, startled. The hand on his wrist fell away, unsupported.

He blinked, and suddenly she was gone, and it was Tanya there again, eyes filled with confusion. Kosso didn't dare blink again, fearing that she would reappear. Instead he took another step back, putting more distance between the two of them. This was a mistake, he realized, halfway into a panic. How could I be so stupid!? He had to get out of here, back to the ship, back to his room, back to the unlabeled bottle in the third drawer of his desk. A dose of Hallex to turn the memories into something sweeter, something manageable. Something that won't make me think of Tanya, and Kahje, and all the terrible shit that goes along with it. Something that won't make me feel like history is repeating itself.

He took one final step away. Slowly, he spoke, voice as flat as he could manage. Careful, precise, as if he'd practiced the lines beforehand."It wasn't always this way." He said, finally. "And as much as I'd like to let it go, I need you to trust me. It's better this way." He turned, and walked away. Like always, he forced himself not to look back.

Tanya watched the drell depart, anguish evident in his normally stoic, if not irritated, facade. His sudden burst of emotion, of fear, panic, something shot through her like a cold breeze. She shook her head, wondering if that man was ever going to find peace. "I wish I could, Kosso... but I will try." she said, suddenly feeling very much so alone.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Dervish
Raw
Avatar of Dervish

Dervish Let's get volatile

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Debriefing D-26-76 Transcript
Subject: Agent Darius Ryloc
Assignment: Information Acquisition/ Target Elimination
Assignment Status: Completed
Handler: Jorin Malek

_________

Malek: Welcome back to Intrepid Station, Ryloc. You know how this goes. Any complications from the sedative?

Ryloc: No, but the assistant has a hell of a right hook. It’s a good thing our Personnel Resources Manager is apathy personified.

Malek: …Please don’t smoke in here. What exactly happened?

Ryloc: Let’s just say she got an eye full and she made a snide remark. I guess I misread her signal, and let’s just say that I don’t think we’re going out later this week.

Malek: …Right. So why don’t you give me the rundown of what happened?

Ryloc: A gentleman never tells.

Malek: (Groaning) No. Your assignment.

Ryloc: Oh, that. I secured the data packet, destroyed the network, and killed 7 rent-a-thugs, plus Nysalla Daleon, the so-called information broker who thought she’d black mail the boss. Oh, and I interrogated her, too. Can’t forget that. I have that exchange copied to an OSD. Might want to tidy it up a bit before sending it upstairs; she was a bit of a screamer.

Malek: I see. We’ll have to determine the validity of the content, since she was under duress and liable to say anything to try to alleviate the torture-

Ryloc: It wasn’t duress.

Malek: Explain.

Ryloc: (A pause, drag on cigarette) She mistook me for her lover in the dark. I simply asked her about her day when I entered her bed chambers.

Malek: You didn’t.

Ryloc: Did.

Malek: How did she not know you were a different person?

Ryloc: Studied the mark, worked on mimicking her lover’s voice before the mission. Turns out our voices were pretty close to begin with. Don’t worry, there isn’t any evidence. You know how shitty the gas lines can be in the Terminus. (Drag on cigarette) Plus, the Blue Suns aren’t known to be great detectives, even if they are the de facto law enforcement on Chalkos. I’m going to take a guess and say that Eclipse may how have a shot at that contract, considering the amount of charcoaled bodies with compound fractures and bullet holes.

Anyways, the mansion had one of those rudimentary security systems that’s popular with the D-list celebrities, you know, the wash-ups who resort to showing up in commercials because their funds ran dry and they’re desperate to revitalize their career. Apparently, Nysalla was an information broker on a budget. We knew she was an upstart and trying to get into the game, but to be frank, it was kind of embarrassing. I simply hacked into it, changed the sensitivity settings so everything from a strong wind to a big insect would trip the alarm. I forwarded the call service from the residence to go directly to a number I had temporarily linked to one of those cheap pre-paid phones, pretended to be the service department and told them that a technician would be out to fix it.

It was easy enough to obtain the uniform and tool kit prior to my deployment, and they didn’t give me as much as a second glance. From there, it was a simple matter of methodically eliminating the rent-a-thugs with some hand-to-hand takedowns and heavy-gauge pistol rounds, as well in one case I couldn’t resist strangling with one of those exercise jump ropes and dangling him from a balcony. Put a trip mine on the corpse in case any stragglers were around, and that’s when I paid Nysalla a visit and extracted information. Got tired of her screaming out, so I shoved one of her toys down her throat… (A giggle) it was actually hilarious. Likewise, I rigged her body up with a trip mine and hacked into her terminal and extracted the information she was going to sell to the Suns. It was kind of a letdown.

Malek: Yes, the information was pertaining to identifying the group responsible for the attack on the Blue Suns registered docking bay on Omega, in particular the identity of two of their former associates. She somehow also got word that they were planning on infiltrating a high-profile hanar crime lord based on Kahje named Brinzoner Luek’s scheduled investor party on his personal luxury yacht. She was planning on tipping off the Suns so they could send one of their own agents to interfere with and eliminate elements the group. It didn’t pan out, clearly. The Shadow Broker requested Khel Zhar to monitor the situation.

Ryloc: Oh, the stuck up krogan who thinks he’s fancy and ashamed of his heritage? He’s not exactly inconspicuous on account of being a fucking krogan.

Malek: He’s also one of the most respected entrepreneurs on Illium, and one of the richest men in the Terminus System. And if you want to talk about inconspicuous, choking a woman to death with her own sex toy, killing all her guards, and blowing up her home is the exact opposite of subtle.

Ryloc: Oh, and I threw her lover off of his apartment balcony afterwards. After making him listen to the audio of me screwing his girlfriend.

Malek: You… there are no words.

Ryloc: Come on. The guy was a Red Sand addict. He already thought he could fly.

Malek: Regardless of… your indiscretions, there was other sensitive information that the Broker found most useful. Enough to send you on another assignment, at least.

Ryloc: Please tell me it’s not Eden Prime. I can’t stand farmers.

Malek: No, that’s an… on going issue. Where did you hear about that?

Ryloc: Perry. She wanted to see if I was willing to switch jobs with her. I told her to go fuck herself.

Malek: No. You’re going to Taetrus.

Ryloc: Damn.

Malek: I thought that might interest you.

Ryloc: Humans have a saying, there’s no place like home. What am I looking for?

Malek: Facinus is the group that sold the Blue Suns the gas cylinders that Nova stole on Omega to help fund their operations. The turian government is trying to figure out how they got the gas in the first place, because they don’t believe Facinus stole the gas. Not directly, anyways. They’re offering good credits for information pertaining to that breach of security.

Ryloc: I do love myself a good mystery… and the chance to kill my dear uncle.

Malek: Quite. I think we’re done here. By the way, your actions have moved you up two places on the leaderboard. If you keep making the Broker happy, you might make it to be one of his preferred agents, and a candidate for the Wetwork squad. Dismissed.
__________
End of Transcript.
__________
Handler Notes: Agent Darius Ryloc has proven to be an effective and loyal agent with a high success rate for assignment completion. However, unprofessional conduct and his utter lack of regard for collateral damage may prove to be a liability. Agent Ryloc’s sociopathic mental condition prevents him from assigning emotional values to his actions, and indeed he seems to enjoy taking life to the extent of going out of his way during a mission to do so, and his condition may prove to be a liability that may require immediate addressing. Despite this, Agent Ryloc is excellent at covering his tracks and so far, no evidence has been recovered from the scenes of his assignments implicating him, or worse, the Shadow Broker. If his abilities can be refined and a more professional disposition towards his work be established, he has the potential to become one of the most effective field agents assigned to Intrepid Station. Recommend continuous observation and evaluation of Agent Ryloc’s performance, as well as providing incentives to encourage behaviour more in line of professional conduct.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Voltin
Raw
Avatar of Voltin

Voltin Commander Zappy

Member Seen 8 yrs ago

ACCESSING NETWORK...
LOGGING ON AS: [Roland Teirs]...
PASSWORD ATTEMPT ONE... FAILED
PASSWORD ATTEMPT TWO... SUCCEEDED
CHECKING HARD DRIVE...
ACCESSING FILE: [Novel Rough Draft]...
ERROR: FILE CORRUPTION DETECTED. PARTLY OVERWRITTEN AFTER POSSIBLE DELETION.
ACCESSING...

...ight had still been young for the squire, and last he remembered, the ale more plentiful by the liter than any normal peasant could count. The tavern had been bustling with life, and filled with more faces of variable hues than he could ever had imagined from his shelter life back on the Old Continent. To think, there had been this many people closed off to them, simply because the magic of sailing had been unknown to them for so long. And now, he had wearily found himself in a band comprised of some of these strange individuals, with nary of an idea of ho...

...eir caravan had stopped in one of the shadiest parts of the new world; Alpha. A contract that one of the elven girls had brought to the rest of the group's attention. The description was plain enough: raid a bandit stronghold for the various weapons they had been hoarding and using on the surrounding civilians. In practice, it had fallen apar... - ...quire had almost been killed, had it not been for the wayward arrow of some shadowy figure who he could have only guessed to be one of the groups numerous arc... - ...as now lost in the maze that the stronghold had provided. He had cast his magics on a dwarf and an orc before eventually killing them both... - ...ite the initial hostility the dwarves had shown the humans, their differences had almost now wholly been treated; the squire had only wished the same could have been said about the or... - ...ventually landed him in the position of flying a balistae mounted griff... - ...verdosed the cute soldier on herbal reme... - ...survived another day. Until the return trip to the Hub, that is. Our construct-human had almost gotten into a fight with our supplier, and I could have sworn that one of the ogres following him had the scent of magic about... - ...as going to train under the tutelage of the halfling wizard among the group. The lure of al...

...ent to the radiant city that was Mu-illi; a city mostly of nymphs...o meet with the nymph who had so graciously left the rest of the band to dally with some other contract without so much as a word. Their discussion had started civil enough, but the squire had overworked his nerve and began to insult the girl that sat before him on marble seati... - ...oo much to drink, and nasty rumors abound about the night the two shared. At least he had a nice set of clothes for the outing to come.

CLOSING FILE...
LOGGING OUT...
DISCONNECTING FROM NETWORK...
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Legion X51
Raw
Avatar of Legion X51

Legion X51 Cap'n Fluff

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Marianna's omni-tool beeped. Frowning, the young woman took a quick look at it: a message from Tzvi and Kygg: the security room was done for. However... that still left the distraction, the vault and... Shit, whose job was it to take out the engine room? Oh... it was Roland's, and he got captured. Where's Jeanna, I wonder... Marianna scanned around for any sign of the cybernetic soldier, but there was nothing for it. She glanced up at Thatian, who was absent-mindedly staring over at the bar area. It probably wouldn't hurt to leave him to his dream world. Marianna got to her feet and had another quick look around, searching for any guards whose attention she might attract - after all, she didn't want to do a Roland on it, though the chances of that occurring would be comparatively small with the main security room out of action. That can't be the 'only' security hub on the ship..., she thought to herself as she made her way over towards the staff entrance into the aft decks of the ship. A guard stood there, watching her closely. He started to speak as she came closer.

"Sorry, miss, this is for staff only. What'cha looking for?" It was a gruff human voice. Marianna looked him over. She could potentially take the guy down, but it probably would be a bad idea in the middle of the guest halls. However... he should have really reported to the security room, surely? Unless there was a secondary hub elsewhere in the ship, which would make sense, but also complicate the mission. Nevertheless, it had to be inquired about. Marianna figured she'd ask a loaded question.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see the sign there... Say, what's with all of the commotion around the bar area? I mean, there wasn't any trouble, was there?"

"No, ma'am, just some merc gettin' uppity with my CO. Speakin' of which, I ain't heard from the CO in a bit, and he said he'd get back to us after he'd sorted stuff out in Hub Alpha."

Marianna went straight for the jugular. This guy seemed rather 'thick', and it would be wise to press home the question. Marianna knew exactly who was in the security room - Roland, Tzvi, Kygg, and apparently some merc who had punched the Salarian in the face earlier at the bar fight. Mari figured the salarian would be out cold from any kind of conflict in the security room, and that this guy might just be dumb enough to go see if he needed help. "Do you think something might have happened to your CO? Maybe his omni-tool's out of action and he needs backup?"

"Nah, the CO could handle himself. Besides- well..." The guard seemed to double-take on the CO (who was the salarian Marianna had seen being punched in the face) being able to handle himself. "Anyhow, what'chu takin' such an interest in it for, anyway?" He looked at Marianna sternly; she knew she'd pushed it too far. "Don't be gettin' any funny ideas, blue-skin. I think the CO might want a word with ya about this - already caught one blockhead back in the aft deck." He pointed his gun at Marianna. "C'mon, don't make this tough fer yerself. Go in front."

Mari desperately tried to fish something out of this situation. "I wouldn't know where to go, I'm hardly someone who knows the layout of the ship."

The guard scratched his chin. "True. I suppose I'd best keep you in line. Follow me, and don't try anything stupid." He opened the door and walked through, looking back to see if Marianna followed him. "Good girl. Now, follow me."

Marianna closed the door behind her and gave a small smile. "I don't think so." She charged up her Barrier and rushed at the guard, slamming her fist into his face with almost inhuman strength, breaking the human's nose and stunning him with the force of the blow. Almost simultaneously, she grabbed hold of the wrist he was holding the gun in, and twisted it hard, forcing the guard to his knees as he gave a grunt of pain, whereupon Marianna firstly punched the man in the face again, before following it up with an elbow, finally knocking him unconscious as it connected with his left temple. The guard crumpled to the floor, motionless and bleeding profusely from his face. Marianna looked at her omni-tool and thought about slitting his throat, but she decided against it for the time being, and dragged the body of the guard over into a small, darkened alcove where several pipes mostly blocked the vision of anyone passing by. It would be a long time before that guy woke up, and it would probably be with a headache so bad he'd wish he hadn't woken up - for all intents and purposes, he was out of the picture. Marianna reached down and took the guard's pistol from him; only a ERCS Striker, and a really crap one at that, but it would do the trick - if it hit, of course, which was far from guaranteed with Strikers. But before she even began to entertain thoughts of a gunfight, she needed to find the equipment that had been stashed away - they might need it for a secondary assault by... whichever merc group was acting as 'guard duty'.

She opened her omni-tool and scanned for any life-signs within the local area - two to four guards in the main room that she'd just vacated, but none in front of her. Perfect, the exact situation you wanted in any stealth-requiring task: no-one to hear you if you fuck up. Mari readied her pistol and made her way down the corridor, checking her omni-tool's combat scanner for signs of movement. She was able to make out what looked like 6 or so guards in one room... or were they Roland & company? Without IFF, she wouldn't really be able to tell. Up ahead was a bulkhead that separated the forward sections of the ship from the aft corridors, undoubtedly leading to the engine room. Walking as quietly as she could (which was surprisingly quiet for heels on a metal floor), she made her way up to the bulkhead and put her ear to it. On the other side, she could hear the clanking of footsteps - heavy, armoured footsteps to boot, and a whistling made by a human. From the sounds of it, he was walking away... Now was time to get lethal. She tried the valve on the bulkhead - it wasn't locked down, but it was very heavy indeed, and moving it would require not only a great deal of effort, but it would probably make a hell of a racket whilst doing so. "Nothing for it..." Mari whispered as she pushed on the bulkhead door. It opened without a great amount of noise - evidently the maintenance teams had been doing their jobs well, if not the guards. You were 'supposed' to lock those doors behind you, surely, if the ship were to hit a rock and begin to flood? It didn't matter for now, Marianna had a guard to deal with. She crept up behind the guard and wrapped her upper arm below his chin, whilst at the same time she slammed the heel of her hand into the back of the guard's head, snapping the spinal column, killing him instantly. Before he could clatter to the floor, Marianna took hold of the guard's body around his chest and gently laid him down, sparing her any unwanted attention. "Been a long time since I've done that to a guy." she muttered to herself as she pressed ahead, towards the aft of the ship.

Ahead was a sign affixed to the wall. Up ahead was towards the engine room, where the equipment was stashed by a helpful member of the crew... helpful because of a fair paycheck, probably, whilst to the right, it mentioned something about a... secondary security room?! "Aft security room? Oh, bloody hell..." Marianna pulled up her omni-tool and scanned the area around her quickly. There were two signatures within the security room, and Marianna wasn't sure if the secondary secroom was linked into the main security room. She sent off a quick message to Roland, Kygg and Tzvi to make sure that any communications to the main security room by the secondary hub were dealt with in a manner that ensured no suspicion - Mari needed to get her silenced Razer rifle before she took care of the aft security room. She continued forward towards the engine room, where she could hear the shouting of men and the noise of the yacht's engines. She could see another bulkhead that separated the aft corridors from the engine room itself. It was open, and in front of the door she could see several crewmen working at the engine's control panels, facing away from her. As she approached the bulkhead, it seemed certain to Mari that she could get inside undetected and find the stash of equipment. She slipped into the engine room and then between a couple of large pipes into a small alcove. There were several large bags. She opened one that seemed to fit an assault rifle's size.

Inside there was a note and an assault rifle with a silencer attachment. The note read 'Razer VIII w/ silencer.' in handwriting that seemed remotely familiar. She smiled, took the rifle out of the bag, and placed the Striker inside to lighten her load - the pistol wasn't necessary any more. The bag also contained a single EC-2520 EM Jammer, which also had a note - 'For use in emergencies'. "Well, if I screw this one up, I'll have an emergency on my hands alright." She took the jammer as well, placing it within a pocket, and then took her rifle into her hands, slipping silently out of the alcove. She looked around to see any military presence - there was none, just 4 crew members manning the engine's control panels. She decided to play it safe and ensure none of the crew were able to send out a message if they saw her. She opened fire on the crewmen, killing two of them with shots to the head and middle of the chest and severely injuring the other two, rendering one of them unable to speak and the other crippled by a shot to the kneecap. "Sayonara, suckers." She fired two more shots and finished the two injured crewmen off, both with headshots, spraying blood and grey matter across the floor, whilst the different colours of blood began to mingle before Marianna opened up her omni-tool and began to type a message in.

"Engine room secured, equipment located. About to take out aft security room."

The message sent to all of Nova, Marianna made her way back to the entrance into the engine room, stepping back out into the corridor. Hoping she hadn't been detected, Mari made her way cautiously back to the divergence in the corridors, and set off down the hallway towards the secondary security room. Ahead were two signatures, both in a room that seemed to be locked. "I suppose this counts as an emergency..." She placed the jammer onto the keypad of the door and programmed in the standard jamming procedure. Instantly, there were mutterings of irritation and 'Fucking god damn technology' from inside the security hub. In preparation, Marianna charged up her Barrier, before one of the guards opened the door to see Marianna aiming a rifle at his head. With a shout, he began to raise his own gun, a pistol, but Mari reacted first, throwing a Singularity into the security room, catching both guards completely off-guard, allowing Marianna to walk into the room and punch one guard into unconsciousness with several blows to the face. The other guard, once the singularity had dissipated, received a healthy kick to the ribs before Marianna stamped on the hand holding the pistol, breaking it and causing the guard to grunt in pain. Marianna aimed her rifle at the struggling turian. "Stop moving. Or I will put a bullet between your squinty eyes."

"Gah, fuck you, blue-skin, you ain't got the guts." Marianna rolled her eyes and shot the guard in the foot. "OK! OK! Fuckin' 'ell, I'll give ya no more trouble."

"Better not." Marianna bent down and picked up the pistol from beyond the guard's outstretched, broken hand. "I'll be having this..." She threw it onto the desk where the central computer screens were located, before stepping back and viewing her 'handiwork'. "Well, that's the secondary hub neutralised. Would've been nice if we'd known about it..." She opened up her omni-tool and sent off another message. "Security hub neutralised. I think we're clear."
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Vakte
Raw

Vakte

Member Offline since relaunch

With a growl, Barb stared at what would be his accommodation for the duration of the trip, a bare grey room, with a bed in one corner and a single terminal beside it, the bed had a pile of bedding and covers, simple and cheap. So much for a comfortable trip, from the manifest he’d read there were two other krogan on this bucket, as well as ten-plus asari, half a dozen batarians and a number of humans that Barb didn’t care to read through, several hanar, and even a turian, and that was just those accompanying the ship to Kajhe, of the crew he didn’t even look into it. It was a sleek looking ship, asari design and well maintained, and obviously making enough money to cover the costs of refuelling and other wonderful expenses that come with owning a large ship. Dumping his pack into the corner, Barb activated the terminal, and ran a security program iBroker had given him, within a handful of seconds the terminal registered as weakly protected, Barb couldn’t help but laugh at the pitiful security surrounding the public access terminal, and activated another program hiding within his omni-tool, it didn’t take long for the VI hidden within the program to pick apart what little security surrounding the terminal, and using the public network as a staging point the VI began to peel apart the security of the secure network, it was better protected, but not that much, it seemed all the money that the asari made went into the looks, not the protection of their ship.

Standing in a half-sleep Barb jerked awake when his omni-tool beeped at him, looking at what it found his eyes widened slightly. One of the krogan was a Weyrloc, the passenger manifest had his full details, that he had given freely, although he had paid a extra in order to claim the final bearth on this boat. Barb growled low, leaving the VI to run its course, he stormed through the halls of the asari vessel, not really designed for a krogan, his information pointed Barb to a room that was just a few dozen metres from him, and as he approached he heard the compressed hiss of the door opening. Weyrloc Saur stared at him for a moment, both recognising one another, both pulling their weapons from their backs, the hall filled with flying slivers of metal hurtled at astonishing speeds. Three rounds slammed into Barb’s chest, his shields absorbing it but only just judging from the insistent beeping in his ear, he slammed his fist into a control panel, the door to his right opened and Barb shifted inside, as the storm of fire from Saur past by him, behind him four asari crewmen stared at him, side arms in their hands, all four glowing with biotics. Barb didn’t care much for them, his attention was drawn to the six large canisters they were obviously checking for damage, the PDAs atop the canisters and maintenance equipment clustered at their feet spoke volumes. A round ricocheted off the doorframe, whistling past Barb’s face and smacking into the forehead of one of the asari, snapping her head back with a stunned expression. Then he heard it, the whined of a weapon overheating, the mods on that rifle clearly made overheating a problem. Spinning back into the hallway, Barb rushed towards Saur, his own rifle returned back to his back, the Blood Pack warrior looked up from his rifle in time to see Barb’s bulky form crashing into him, both of them clattering to the metal floor with the scraping of armour against metal. Barb drew his fist back, swinging it forward to connect with Saur’s jaw, the pair of krogan brawling for all their worth. The hallway suddenly darkened around them, a pale red light blinking as a wailing alarm started. Barb saw Saur grin before he slammed his head into the Blood Pack warrior’s own.

“Who’s coming Saur?” he growled standing up.

Spitting several teeth to the ground, the krogan looked up at Barb, “Our brothers,” he said, before he started to laugh. The laughter died in his chest as he saw Barb’s Spike Thrower unfolding in his hands.

“Bit much to attack a ship for me, Saur,” said Barb, pointing the deadly krogan-made weapon at one of the many who partaken in the destruction of the Red Suns all those years ago.

“We didn’t even know you were here Barb!” shouted Saur suddenly, his cowardly nature coming to the fore once more.

“I don’t care, more Blood Pack to kill. This is for Arik Quor,” growled Barb, pulling the trigger. A spike capable of punching through Thresher Maw hide punched through Saur’s chest, pinning the krogan’s form to the metal deck.

Arik Quor had been a batarian technical expert, captured when the Blood Pack had attacked the Red Suns based, Barb and others had been forced to watch as Arik was literally cut open and crippled before being thrown into a small pit with a pack of varren. His screams in particular haunted Barb, and Barb had watched Saur make every cut, his death deserved to be longer, more protracted than this, but with more Blood Pack to kill, he couldn’t waste time now. He fired another spike through Saur’s skull, and stalked off to find the bridge, the ship was shuddering lightly, obviously under fire, but its shields seemed stronger than Barb thought a transport would boast.

It didn’t take long to find the bridge, getting past the guards did, a squad of Eclipse stood with the captain, their weapons ready and aimed at the krogan who sudden appeared. He couldn’t see their faces, but he noted several salarians and once whose figure was defiantly asari, the rest were humans by the way they held their weapons.

“Confine this beast to his quarters,” said the Eclipse leader.

“Bitch please, I’ve already killed a Blood Pack bastard today, you want to waste time and troops holding me back?” grunted Barb, pushing the first Eclipse to try and hold him back.

“Wait!” shouted the captain, “Which krogan was it? Where was it?”

“Weyrloc Saur, E-Deck, maybe instead of just taking his money you should’ve asked who he was,” growled Barb, looking out the front of the ship, the view-port was filled with the shape of half a dozen frigates, all powering to cut off the Destiny’s Cousin from returning to the relay. Impressive feat for the Blood Pack to wait in ambush outside the relay, beyond the defence ships of whatever system they had arrived at.

“Well they already knew we were coming! So that doesn’t matter! I have six ships in front of us, and another three behind us, they knew we were coming!” yelled the captain.

“Aye, and you had a Blood Pack trooper already aboard. If he reached your engine room you’d already be a sitting pyjak to their guns,”

“You know what they’re after captain, we can’t let them get reach E-Deck, I’ll deploy half my forces to secure E-Deck, the rest shall be deployed along key systems, you know
as well as I do, this battle will end with boarding actions,” said the Eclipse leader, a lieutenant by the insignia on her shoulder.

Barb glanced down at his omni-tool which was beeping insistently at him again, opening the relevant details, Barb sighed in disbelief, he had forgotten about the other krogan, it wasn’t a Weyrloc, but it was a member of the Blood Pack, and as if to highlight the point, the ship shook violently as an explosion ripped through a section of the vessel, the force of the explosion all but threw everyone off their feet, consoles exploded, crewmen died, sparks flew everywhere, and all the while, the ships of the Blood Pack continued to batter the severely weakened shields of the asari transport.

“Report!” cried the captain.

“Engines are gone captain! Massive internal damage, shields at 6%, they’ll buckle in thirty seconds!”

“Change of plan, get the crew to man defensive positions on D, E and F-Decks, the Blood Pack have already taken the ship, we need to stop them taking the cargo, all Eclipse, proceed to E-Deck, activate all defence turrets,” said the asari lieutenant.

Barb liked the lieutenant; she was to the point and already leaving the captain behind, the large krogan waved at the captain, mocking her, before turning back and following the quick moving Eclipse squad. The Blood Pack weren’t after him, so he could only guess that those canisters would be the cargo, hopefully those crewmen were still with them. It was only when the Eclipse stopped short of the dead krogan that Barb had left behind that Barb was confused, the room containing the canisters was a further ahead, and this room was of far higher security rating, with several power lines hinting at shielding as well as multiple passcodes duel security locks. The asari noticed the krogan’s gaze.

“Your handiwork I take it?” she said.

“It’s not him I’m bothered about, what’s behind this door?” grunted Barb.

“That’s classified I’m afraid,”

“Whatever it is, does it get moved in canisters?”

The asari didn’t answer, which was good enough for Barb, as he started towards where he had seen the canisters. The door hissed open at his approach, and a hail of metal pounded into his shields and the frame work. Staggering back into cover, Barb shook his head, shards of chitin lay on the ground, and he carefully rubbed where a neat hole now existed just above where his eye was. Growling he checked his spike thrower, before noticing the Eclipse members had formed around him, with two rolling past the door to take positions there.

“What’s in there?” asked the asari.

“Earlier I ducked in here to avoid Saur, saw four of the crew checking a bunch of canisters, didn’t think much until your captain asked where I had the fight. Thought those crewmen would’ve told her before I arrived,” answered Barb.

“Seleena, flashbang first, Bors and Tito follow through and clear them,” ordered the asari.

The Eclipse moved with a purpose, the flashbang detonating several seconds after being thrown, and two of the team hurried inside, their rifles barking to the screams of the occupants. Barb was impressed, they had obviously worked together for a while, they covered each other while using what little cover was available to full effect. They spoke to the asari on a separate frequency from Barb, as the asari entered the room without a sound, before muttering a curse at the sight. She stormed out and ordered her squad something over the frequency Barb followed her, eager to see what had pissed her off so much. With one of the Eclipse guards who stayed at the main security room turned and entered a code into one of the panels, the asari quickly entered her own and both pressed their hands against the panels. The shielding around the door faded, and the metallic click of the door unlocking and hissing open.

“Veena to all Eclipse, cargo has been compromised, proceed to E Deck immediately, do not allow the crew to join you. Veena to Captain, your crew is compromised, keep them away from E Deck, if they approach we will open fire, Veena out,” snapped the asari.

“Just another day against the Blood Pack,” grumbled her comrade.

“Bors, Tito, get those canisters back in here now, the rest of you, pull the panelling, set the explosives, I want a feasible barricade set up before the Blood Pack board us,” she continued, turning to Barb. “I would say you have to leave, but seeing as it’s krogan we’re against, I won’t say no to having a krogan on our side,”

“As long as I get to kill Blood Pack,” grunted Barb.

It didn’t take long for the Blood Pack ships to finish off what few weapons the Destiny’s Cousin had left, and once her guns were silence, Barb knew the boarding shuttles and tubes would be launched, and then the true battle would begin. From what Barb could tell, the first boarders landed in the shuttle bay, reports from the crew stationed to defend that section spoke of a few dozen vorcha with several krogan, two minutes later there was no word from the shuttle bay. The next batch of boarders entered through the wreckage of the engine room, hidden behind void-worthy helmets and enviro-suits, the Blood Pack cut through the barriers and began to work their way through the lower decks, the third batch entered through the docking port, and en masse, the bridge fell after ten minutes of intense fighting, but from the numbers reported the Blood Pack flooded through them with dozens of vorcha and an equal number of krogan. The last report from the crew was at the entrance to E Deck, where the last of the crew fought for their lives, only to be swarmed from two directions.

Lieutenant Veena motioned for her second in command, a human woman with short black hair, she pulled up her omni-tool, and was activated something. A few seconds later a loud explosion filled the hall, mixed with the surprised screams of those who had suffered its effects. Thirty Eclipse and Barb were all that remained against the Blood Pack from what he could tell, and now the Blood Pack had noticed the sudden thorn in their side in the form of these mercenaries. Two krogan appeared from where the explosion had wiped out their vorcha comrades, their armour burnt and still smoking, Barb was impressive, incendiary bombs, to combat the regenerative traits of both krogan and vorcha. The first caught sight of the barricade of steel wall panelling and broken furniture from the passenger quarters, and fell to five rifles firing at once, the second roared and charged forward, his blood rage overcoming the weight of fire against him. Barb leapt over the barricade, barrelling into the krogan, both sprawling on the deck as more vorcha and krogan appeared to join the assault, exchanging shots with the Eclipse mercs taking cover behind the barricade. Barb could hear the orders being barked, the yells of the fighters, but he cared little, the krogan before him pounded his side, and pushed him back against the wall, still battering his torso with a hail of punches. Barb caught one punch and pushed off the wall to carry the krogan into the centre of the hall, rounds snapped past them, or impacted against their shields, swinging wide, Barb slammed his fist in the krogan’s face, following with another blow, and another, he was targeting the krogan’s eye, not to crush it but to blind it, this krogan was much younger than him, and had the strength to best him in an even brawl. The krogan pushed back, but lost his footing to the shield impacts, staggering back as well. A pair of vorcha hurtled themselves into Barb, they weren’t that much of a problem, as he drew his knife from its sheathe on his thigh, plunging it into the first vorcha’s chest and ripping the wickedly serrated blade from its chest. The second screeched before raking its claws against his chestplate, he gripped the vorcha by the throat, holding it between him and the hail of metal raining from the Blood Pack line. The body twitched and jerked in his grip and he walked steadily back to the barricade, a round punched clean through the corpse in his hand, catching Barb just below the shoulder, shaking his arm and losing his grip on his shield. More rounds slammed into his shields, which beeped insistently in his ear as he felt them suddenly pop. His armour sparked again and again as he was struck by dozens of rounds, he felt warm liquid oozing down his thigh and he grunted as he tried to heft himself back over the barricade. Lieutenant Veena grabbed him by the hump and hauled him over, using her biotics to amplify her strength, Barb landed in a heap, orange blood seeping between his armour’s segments, a hand clenched against his side.

“Tito, keep Second Squad at the rear, let me know the instant the Blood Pack arrive,” ordered Veena, hurtling a ball of biotic energy down the hall.

“We’ll run out of ammo before they run out of vorcha,” growled Barb through clenched teeth.

“Then I’ll blow this ship to the void and back, the Blood Pack are not getting this cargo,” answered Veena, ducking down as a rocket screamed overhead, miraculously passing over every Eclipse member and detonating at the opposite end of the hall.

“Good to know,”

The Eclipse squads battled for the better part of twenty minutes before the vorcha managed to get close enough to use their flamethrowers, a wash of the chemicals bathed the barricade, and two Eclipse fell back screaming as they cooked inside their armour. Barb pulled an explosive from the belt of Veena, priming it and lobbing it over the lip of the barricade, the grenade detonated in a hail of shrapnel that ripped the flamethrowers apart, their fuel tanks exploding violently and casting a momentary wall of fire that barred any further advance.

“Joys of flamethrowers is that if they’re closer enough to use, you don’t need to throw far,” growled Barb, struggling to raise himself, his regenerative powers had kicked in, and although the pain flooded his body with the slightest movement, Barb could move without losing feeling anywhere.

“LT, vorcha to the rear, heavy weapons!” cried Tito, firing his rifle.

“Third Squad split into fire teams, team one here, team two assist Tito,” snapped Veena.

The mentioned Eclipse didn’t get a chance to turn to face the new foe, a flurry of rockets smashed into the barricade that Tito and his squad hunkered behind, blowing it apart in a shower of broken metal and body parts, Tito was nowhere to be seen, and his squad lay in various places, only a few moved feebly. The vorcha flooded over the broken barricade, diving onto those still breathing from Tito’s men, Barb charged into them, his body screaming in disagreement, he slammed on into the blackened wall, plunged his knife into another, and a pair of rocket launcher-wielding vorcha lined him up, his body glowed pale blue as he gathered his biotic powers, hurtling the energy into the vorcha. Both were thrown from their feet with a screech of surprise that ended as they skulled met the end of the hall. One of the launchers flew with its owner, the second fell to the ground, the sensitive trigger jarred by the impact, and Barb watched in silent shock as the rocket flew above him, impacting the roof directly above him. The concussive force dropped Barb like a puppet with its strings cut, raining wreckage and debris atop of him. He gasped in pain as he felt something sharp punch clean through his abdomen, another pinned his right arm to the deck, and Barb struggled to move at all as the vorcha ran over his new tomb, the firefight was remarkable one-sided without the barricade protecting them. The Eclipse members fought hard, but each was cut down by the withering fire of the vorcha, or dragged to the ground under their claws and torn apart. He heard Veena spitting curses and he waited for the explosions that would tear what remained of the ship apart, but it never came, he heard her scream in pain, then nothing. Barb lay silent, unable to move, both of his hearts working overtime to compensate the damage he’d suffered, then it dawned on him again: this was the second time a vorcha had trapped him with a fucking rocket launcher. A krogan stood over his tomb, staring at what little of Barb was visible.

“Ah, Barb, I would grant you a good death, but I don’t have the time, we’ve got plans and a timetable,” growled the krogan, a huge member, one of the oldest Blood Pack members alive, his dark plates of armour in contrast to his relatively pale skin. “Leave this pyjak here, he can die a slow death, knowing that once again he is not worthy to die by our hands,”

The Blood Pack spent the next thirty minutes breaking open the security door, severely damaged as it was by the firefight, and then another ten moving the canisters, twelve in all to their own ships. Barb watched in silence as the Blood Pack left him to his death on this wreck, nothing moved around him but for the few fires that had yet to burn themselves out, and the occasional piece of debris falling from the ceiling, or the screech of sparking power lines, what little power remained would most likely die out before any chance of rescue, but Barb had learned one thing in his years, fate loved her games.

“Fucking vorcha and their fucking rocket launchers,” he growled as he lay there.

His omni-tool beeped on his wrist, ad he struggled to see it, but grinned with genuine surprise as he saw the security program VI had hacked into the ship’s operations and switched on the emergency beacon, hopefully it wouldn’t be long before help arrived, or if they arrived in time to yank him from his tomb in order for him to get to Nova and that ship. Vengeance couldn’t come sooner in Barb’s opinion.

“I’ll call you Blue,” he said to the VI, doubting it cared, but it had saved his life before by locating Saur, and if it saved him again he’d have to buy it a drink.
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Tick
Raw
GM

Tick

Member Seen 9 yrs ago

[Double Post. Ignore]
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Tick
Raw
GM

Tick

Member Seen 9 yrs ago

"You know how to knock someone out, right?"
...
His shackles removed, and now joined by two of his team, Roland felt the first bit of relief since departing from the main body of the party. He let out a sigh as Tzvi addressed him by his chosen code name, and gave Mark a sideways glance; he knew that the mercenary had probably already figured out what his game was, and what the quarian and vorcha were playing at too with how they all were associating.

The former cop took a brief moment of respite in massaging his sore wrists before retrieving the the cuffs which had been used to restrain him. With a quick glance he could already recognize the model and systems in place within the small device -- it was similar to something that they had used in Boston, with a few modifications which weren't technically legal -- and was able to reprogram it with a few flicks of the fingers at his omni-tool. "Now-now Tzvi, no need for violence," he said back to her in a similarly hushed tone. Tzvi's face-plate turned to him curiously. He strode over to Ret and forced both his hands behind his back -- a familiar motion to him if there ever was one -- and engaged the lock to the cuffs. "Now if he gets too uppity, and loud-"
"You little pieces of shi-" he began, but was interrupted as his body slightly convulsed with the flow of an electrical current; almost as if to prove Roland's point.
A small smirk played on Roland's lips, "-the cuffs will send out a little shock and shut him up. Good thing these Quantum folks aren't ones to play by the rules, huh?"

Tzvi coughed out an airy laugh, arms drooping before lowering the gun's barrel.
With all the time she'd seen him, it was the first that Roland seemed like a cop. The man never acted like cops Tzvi knew. He never acted suspicious of her as one of the “disreputable” races, he never doggedly raced after a criminal, or judged or targeted the team he was – unnaturally - working in, or displayed the self-righteous, uptight, thuggish authority, or cliquey superiority around other cops. Tzvi couldn't recall a time he actually made an order or demand. But he fixed the cuffs and locked them around the turian's hands, no problem. It looked like a proper arrest. And Tzvi didn't even know the cuffs electrocuted their rowdy captors.

“Always is. Means they've got some nice tech to grab.”

Maybe it was a bad thing, but the merc found herself impressed.

“You've gotta show me how you did that, sometime.”

Roland turned to the quarian, chest puffed, and face revealing the small pride that he took in his little display. "Sometime; maybe," he said to the quarian with a coy smirk.

Lonnie stayed laid across the ground, dead silent, armor and skin burnt crisp and blackened on the side that brunted the worst of the fire that jumped him. She couldn't judge if the guard was breathing or not.

Tzvi reluctantly stuck a thumb behind her. She wanted to sound casual, but an unsteady sheepishness tainted it, "Heey..I don't know what your ethics are on guards preemptively struck down before they potentially attempt to get us killed, but, uh, that guard's having a bad time of it if the fire didn't do him in. Might want to check on him. Up to you."

Roland let out a small 'hmph' as he saw what Tzvi was pointing to. Casualties were something to be expected on any mission, but for the guy to not even have shot at them... Well, the medic couldn't quite place where his feelings were on the issue. "I'll... take a look," he finally said after a moments deliberation. He headed over and knelled over the unconcious mercenary. "Guy probably carries his own supply of medi-gel that I could probably siphon, anyway; couldn't bring my own without making it look like I was expecting trouble."

Orish spat again. "The moment I get out of here I'm going to gut you and your fa-"

"Right. Last word from you'ah," hissed Kygg, his free hand moving to grab Orish's neck and halting the salarian's sentence. He clenched tightly, choking the man as his bladed hand pulled back, the knife-edge reducing into a simple omni-tool.

Tzvi turned on a heel from the arrested turian when she picked up the vorcha's voice, and ambled toward the other to check the situation.

The omni-tool began moving with holographic pistons and saws, producing a tiny object in Kygg's palm. Oh, how he loved how useful a well-tuned omni-tool was. The tiny object hummed gently and a tiny red light glistened on it. Kygg, holding it up in Orish's face for a moment, tucked it into the collar of the salarian's armour. It ticked softly against his skin. Orish, confused, opened his mouth to inquire, only for Kygg's fist to strike his jaw again.

"You'ah. Stop talking right'ah now. Don't move. Don't speak. Don't even breath'ah... or this little thing?" The most sinister smirk Tzvi had ever seen crept out on Kygg's face, a glint in his eye and blood on his teeth. "Boom'ah..." he whispered in Orish's ear.

There was a silent pause from Tzvi. First job, Kygg’s sharp smile oozing blood at the blinking explosion hidden on a salarian would have horrified her. Enough to hitch a ship’s cargo bay and jump into the galaxy's next cluster, if not all the way back to a bad mining job. It still got a jump out of her that made her stop, now. Roland was similarly mortified as his ears picked up on the vorcha's words; enough to stop his work on the guard and check over his shoulder before continuing again with some hesitation.

Tzvi didn’t like the idea of Orish getting the others unnecessarily killed out of spiteful stupidity, but she ignored that fact. It was hard to neglect the want to dump a mine on Orish. It would be unfair to block Kygg from the opportunity to horrify him, and the chance to give Luek and friends another party surprise when he checked the security room. Full of his broken staff and domesticated Quantum boss, or a giant crater redecorating his luxury ship in a rainbow of splatters.

She chuckled, to her own surprise. Even the tough, proud, arrogant boss failed to muster more than a paltry thin polish of unfazed apathy over the stunned terror. Tzvi had no idea how the salarian would last the hour without talking or hitting something.

“This is why you learn your manners 'n' don’t ask questions about classified information, sir,” came the sunny lecture, which Roland couldn't help but let a small chuckle out at. Tzvi strolled around to Kygg’s side with a plainly evident bounce in her step. Almost all the cheer genuine. It was a small victory dance.

“I like your idea, Kygg, good thinking. I don’t think this guy’ll ever have a more appropriate punishment."

"Careful with your words there, Tzvi," Roland playfully cautioned as he dosed some of the pilfered equipment into the body under him. Tzvi's form perked up with a glance to her partner. "Someone may decide to cut his tongue out -- much more appropriate -- I actually think we're being lenient."

Ah,” the helmet subtly bowed in acknowledgement, “ A fate worse than death!: he’d have to live with the consequences. ”

Her mask dropped back to Kygg and the bloodied boss below, “While we finish up here, would you mind giving him a nap? I’d rather not test his sense of survival and ‘loyalty’” Tzvi snorted, “against how much he hates this lot.”

"But'ah... if he stay awake'ah, he much more scared'ah. Know what's'ah coming... Shah!" hissed Kygg, purposely exaggerating the stereotypical vorcha speech patterns. He turned to look at Orish, baring his razor teeth.

Tzvi held one arm that cupped her hand around her chin. “You're right, it ruins the point,” she slowly conceded, mulling over it. “That's too bad.”
Her voice was somber, near shame. Tzvi didn't want to block Kygg from every idea he had. “He could be conscious most the time, when we're gone...You got anything handy to make him doze off for a shorter while? We could dose him a bit much medi-gel?”

"Wouldn't work well, or at all really," Roland cut in, walking over to join the two. "Accidentally pulled that one on Tanya after Omega, and she wouldn't stop jabbering. I don't know about you two, but I would prefer to live a little longer."

"And waste'ah our own? I'd rather just punch him'ah," replied the vorcha.

A quiet ffft could be heard as Tzvi sucked a thin line of air between her teeth and bitten lip. A hand swept from the side of her face plate to the back of her head. Tzvi blanked on what else to do. “Well..blast.”

Kygg opted for his usual approach. He punched him, a closed fist enclosed in an omni-tool that struck the side of the salarian's temple. It didn't knock the salarian out in a single blow as Kygg had hoped and even the second one failed to down him, instead leaving Orish groaning in pain as a headache began to take shape.

"...fine, fine'ah. You try," Kygg said, standing but leaving a foot pressed down firmly on the man's chest.

Tzvi shifted awkwardly in her place. “...You sure you don’t want to punch him more? ..I mean, this sort of spoils your fun, as it is.”

"I've already hit him nine-" Kygg slammed his foot down on the salarian's stomach. "Ten times'ah. I've had my fun'ah."

"Alright," Tzvi shrugged it off. She pulled up the salarian's omni-tool. Like many people, his medi-gel doses were ready to go at the command of a button. She raised her head to see Roland’s look, hesitated, then pressed it anyways.
Three times later, the salarian’s screwed up face uncrumpled, mouth slumping open as the head lolled around on the ground. Slurred syllables began to gurgle to the surface.

“No!” Tzvi started mashing the command. Orish’s form grew flimsier and tongue looser with every button press. The eyelids drooped, but the gel wouldn’t knock him out. Tzvi spat out a frustrated sigh and a hasty boot smacked the boss’s head. The broken face tossed to the left, without another peep from the unconscious Orish. Tzvi awkwardly stared at it in surprise, before glancing to the others and defensively shrugging her shoulders.

“...yeah.” After coughing to clear her throat, she uncertainly patted the vorcha on the back, "Thanks, Kygg - uh, sorry - I owe you one for this."

The next order of business was perhaps the newly introduced liability, to whom Roland turned.

*

A small red flag went up in Mark's mind as the accomplices chose to just detain the Quantum members, but that didn't matter right now as his former bench buddy turned to him.

"So, I know you know my name," he started tonelessly, not sparing the now incredulous looking Tzvi a glance in fear he would lose any nerve he now held from the scolding he was likely to receive.

Mark nodded slowly.
"Probably."

He smirked from the bound merc's sense of humor. "And you know you're now likely to be implemented in whatever it is we're going to be doing on this ship, so, uh-" he hesitated, unsure as to how everyone else on Nova would respond to what he wanted to say next.

"Am I now?" Mark threw in during the pregnant delay.

The beginning of Roland's agitation showed as he rolled his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "-how about a small job, huh?"

What?
Tzvi practically choked on the offer. First Roland gave away his name to a strange merc, now this? Did he know how this career worked? This was only getting worse.
All this would bring was a wary watch over one of her previous targets "helping" them with the promise of pay. A bad bodyguard that couldn't care about his job, employer, or the fact that he was fired, and had somehow managed to end up here, the security room, with a nosy and high-strung Quantum boss trying to beat his face until it stretched like clay and molded into something new. Worst of all, Tzvi was convinced he was one of their peers in a job market that was borderline-criminal, at best of times.

Mark quirked a brow and looked around the battered room. It had been messy, but the break out had been successful. They were clearly organized, and it would likely be a lot easier to get off this tub if he tagged along instead of making a go of it himself.

Roland swallowed nervously; an obvious shock from Tzvi, and a current lack of response from the fellow in front of him had left him unsure of his choice of words and actions.

Mark shrugged,
"Whelp. All I had to do was get drunk, punch a merc lieutenant in the face, and conveniently land myself int the same room as you. So it wasn't the hardest try out I've ever had. But seeing as I was about to be on my way out anyways I guess I might as well get paid while doing it."
He raised his brows and added pointedly,
"That is what the word job implies after all... Yeah, a 'small job' sounds like a fun time. So Roland," he glanced over at the quarian to gauge her reaction – crossing her arms and flatly staring him down in turn - at the use of what he assumed was 'Archie's' real name, "if you'll kindly get me out of these cuffs, and give me my weapons, I'll lend a hand to get us outta here. Party wasn't my style anyway."

“No, no, no. Wait a second,” Tzvi's feet skimmed along the room to stop her naive teammate, ending just short of him. "He's a merc. He's a merc we don't know. Who wouldn't agree to a job if it got them out of cuffs in a room set to blow? And how many people in our profession d'you think would play along until they found a nicer deal?"

Tzvi grabbed Roland's arm and leaned in to hush her voice, looking him straight in the eye, "We don't know what he can do or what he's willing to do, he'll have weapons he can turn on us, and alarms, and people. And his only supposed motivation is to get out of this ship, and an unnamed sum of credits." Which the bodyguard could easily turn into an auction, with only one bidder forced to agree to an increasingly large offer under the threat that they'd be gunned down otherwise. Assuming he wasn't lying about cooperation to start with.

Roland gritted his teeth from the lack of enthusiasm that was in the quarian's response and forced a shrug, Tzvi’s arm dropping with it. "What other real choice do we have? He has weapons, and at the rate at which things are progressing, we're never going to be getting ours before everything blows up into a free-for-all," Roland uttered in a forceful whisper, trying to reassure her of his choice, but real conviction lacking from his voice. "There's another boss on this ship -- one who actually has some air of authority and ability about him unlike this salarian bastard," he motioned his thumb in Orish's direction, "-- and if, when, he issues this ship to go into red alert -- which will happen whenever he returns to this room -- him, the rest of his outfit, and any others like my former companion-in-chains here are all going to be gunning for us.
That made Tzvi weary. The second problem was well known, but being one with actual authority or power would make a challenge. 'We're taking care of it before he does,' she wanted to say, but the quarian didn't interrupt Roland. Tzvi didn't believe it'd be so clean and easy, herself, anyways.
"We're in over our head, I've come to realize," he continued, a commanding conviction finally entering entering his voice with this last statement, "-and we're going to need any help we can get now.” Tzvi’s stubborn disagreement shrunk into a hunched, tense quiet, wayward eyes flicking away and passing over the cuffed man. Roland was right. They were on the edge of a desperate spot. More trouble and less help was a bad combination. And Tzvi had been here before. Scrambling for help from shady, new-made friends. 'Almost every time...' The playback egged her gut to kill the risk with a shot to its head more than open its lock.
"Loyalty isn't the issue here; whether we get off this ship or not is."

’Loyalty?’ Her gaze snapped back in focus on Roland. She sounded almost surprised, “I’m not talking loyalty. We need insurance.”
“You’re right, completely right..” she paused. One balled up fist lightly tapped twice on and covered the glass where the mouth should be. “But we’re dead if he waits to catch our backs turned. And it’s tricky to avoid notice, already.”

Mark's attention switched lazily between the quarian and Roland while they argued in hushed tones. He was able to catch bits of the conversation, but didn't glean much from them. All he could gather was that they were clearly not friends with Quantum, and by extension, the owner of the boat either. As if that wasn't already apparent. But right now, that made them potential allies. The enemy of my enemy and all that. He decided to cut in.

"Look honey," he started, addressing the quarian, whose head slowly turned his way, "times a wastin' so lemme' break it down for you. The way I see it, you've got a few options. A: You kill me right now. But considering you haven't already, I'm guessing that's not really your style. So we can ignore that one. B: You leave me here. And C: You cut me loose. Now, what you need to realize is, with or without your help, I will be leaving this room. So what it really comes down to is, do you want me leaving this room knowing you helped me out, or do you want me leaving this room chasing you down to get my things back knowing that you left me here with an active bomb?"

Mark shrugged then and leaned forward in anticipation of the answer, fingers steepled.
"I may not look like much, but it seems like a pretty obvious choice to me. If it's not obvious, I highly recommend option C."
Roland smirked.

His pitch for freedom solidified Roland's points. Mark was a problem either way, at least in one case it was possible he'd be less of one. An odd, silly smile caught Tzvi. Cons and scams highly recommended giving them cash, too.
'My 'style.' What's that fried 'n' crispy smell drifting over here?'
Tzvi let go of the thought. No reason to antagonize a to-be traveling companion, threat or no. Especially a threat. She'd get farther looking harmless: an upstanding person of morals, an idiot; a coward. Tzvi finally nodded and said in passing, "Alright, hurrah for Option C. You're on the team."

A halting hand shot up, "Gotta do a couple things first before we pack up and go. It'll take a few minutes, max. Then you'll have free hands to hold your weapons." Tzvi hurried over to the security control panel to gain control and access on her omni-tool. With Orish's information on a separate arm, it was even easier to earn the top level of authority in the system. "Ryncola-friend and I have an excuse to be in the back maze-of-hallways, but you two don't, and they're going to know you're supposed to be held back here.." Tzvi drifted off once working on shutting down the alarms and notices without obvious sign, and began rolling in and out of conversation with wavering focus, "...so, you've got to be ready to bolt 'n' hide....I've got a map..with everyone's location, if you need it."
"May need more than that; my first attempt wasn't really successful as you can see."
Tzvi paused. The mask tilted upward, and she breathed out a laugh. "Then follow our lead."

An error sign filled up the large square of screens, and the screens responded to the rude interruption a flash-second later by cutting the message short and flickering off. Any sensory devices surveying the ship and additional functions were now blocked on the main system, faking that it was broken. Tzvi checked that it all transferred properly to the small computer wrapped about her wrist.

"Think we're done here." In unison with the word, Tzvi sent the buzz notice to the crew. The first goal was reached. Now they just needed the bridge.

Tzvi leaned over and picked up one of the guard's guns, "Back to a bit ago, we can't set off the alarm. Not because of a little noise and two breakout rebel guests, anyhow. We're supposed to be stealth'ing this, and the whole thing's done for if we spook 'em early. Just gotta be a tad more careful and follow the core plan."

A voice popped into her ear and stopped her from grabbing another gun. "I'm really hoping you guys weren't lying about taking care of the security room, or me and the socialite will be soon be entertaining a host of very angry mercenaries. We've taken care of Luek and located the safe, now we're going to need someone looking after us while we get it open. There should be a hell of a lot of camera feeds in that security center; one of you should commandeer them. We need an eye on the rest of the ship, someone to let us know if we or anyone else on the team is about to get any unexpected company. Can you guys do that?"

A cheesy grin hit Tzvi's face.
"Oh, shoot, did we say that? It was good to hear your voice one last time, Kos-so. Sorry to see you go in thirty seconds; I'll play this sad tune from the net over the com's to bring some comfort."

Mark, raised a brow at this unorthodox response to what he assumed was an additional team member. He glanced over at Roland and jerked his thumb at Tzvi with a 'What's her deal,' expression. 'She's lived a sheltered life,' the medic mouthed back.

Tzvi's voice straightened into a deeper, solemn tone, "Yes, it's all good. I've got it all already set; only people that can see you or anyone is us. I can keep an eye on it. You want the video sent over?
"And hey, uh, I'm not sure we should be chatting through audio like this.."

"Okay then - uh," a ping popped from the omni-tool and showed a message from Mari. Tzvi typed a short message back:
"We've got you. No worries from our end. Good luck."

Tzvi looked up, a grin shining through, "Everyone up to see the bridge?" Roland and Kygg had already plucked up the other weapons, so Tzvi went straight to Mark. Switching through Orish's windows, she tapped the right button and the cuffs unhooked. "You're free."

"'Bout time," Mark muttered as he tossed the cuffs aside and rolled his wrists.

The hacker handed the dagger and the gun, hilt facing the stranger, and offered a hand to help up. There was something palpably more sunny and genial than minutes before. "Cute, now we're all friends," quipped a certain sentinel.

"What's your name, partner?"

Mark opted to stand on his before taking his effects and slipping them into their respective holsters. The knife, blade up on his left pectoral, and the Phalanx into the mag lock on his right thigh. Then he rolled his head about to try and work out the kinks caused by Orish's administrations.

"Name's Mark."

He rubbed his index and middle finger across his right temple and the corner of his mouth to see if they were still bleeding, and was rewarded with a streak of crimson on his finger tips. He rubbed out the stain with his thumb.

"And what should I call you folks? I hope it's not Isolde and Chuckles."

"Yes, in fact, he's Isolde and she's Chuckles," Roland balked with the point of a finger. "Now let's just shut up and move on to the bridge, will ya?!"
Tzvi whispered under Roland, valiantly trying - and failing by the end - to keep it dead serious, "Chuckles is also Isolde's floating pet."
Hidden 11 yrs ago Post by Mosis Tosis
Raw

Mosis Tosis

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Tanya shot an uncertain glance at Kosso and Luek before quickly inputting the keycode into the omni-tool, and before she set down to work on the safe, her fingers moved in another sequence, and 'Shithead' the combat drone appeared, floating a few feet from her patiently while it waited for instruction. Inputting the commands in the omni-tool, the drone floated towards the doors, "Anyone comes through there uninvited, they're getting roasted." she said, moving to the wall, tracing her hand along the coral panel, searching for the button that would open it. It had to be something fairly large, otherwise Luek's tentacle would simply be too large to access it. Her fingers moved along the smooth metal before she felt something somewhat spongy to the touch. With a firm press, the panel slid to the side, exposing the safe. Looking back at Kosso and their hostage, she raised an eyebrow. "If he gave me a code that sets off a silent alarm, made sure he bleeds out slowly." she remarked coldly before her fingers danced over the comically large keypad.

1...7...3...9...2...

The telltale sign of a magnetic clutch disengaging was audible through the thick metal and the first door opened easily. One edge of Kosso's mouth twitched, the only sign he could show of the relief that the mission was still somehow on track. "Apparently you are[/ good for something." He addressed Luek, the point of his gun never wavering from its position above the criminal's gelatinous body.

"This one imagines that this one must be worth a great deal, to warrant the attention you are giving it." The Hanar answered, without a trace of humor.

"Cute. Now the second code."

"Are you so eager to end this 'business' and leave? This one was just starting to warm up to the two of yo-" The Hanar's sentence wasn't finished when Kosso's foot caught him in the side. Luek actually left the ground for a short second, tentacles flailing uselessly, before landing with a soft plop a few feet away. Kosso was over him again immediately with his gun.

"I'm losing patience, and you're losing time. The code. Now." Luek remained silent. With a frustrated sigh, Kosso motioned to Tanya. "Better start on plan B."

Opening an algorithm in her omnitool, Tanya worked at connecting it to the software in the safe. Hundreds of numbers filled the screen as she made minute adjustments, concentrating on the job at hand. The program, preloaded with every number combination, putting priority on the most commonly used, threw these numbers at the safe's programming, comparing thousands of potential combinations to the safe's program in a way that was not unlike trying a box of like-sized keys in a keyhole and seeing if any turned the lock. While the program did its thing, she had to manually bypass security features in the program, such as overriding the lockout from too many incorrect guesses, disconnecting the alarm sequence while resetting the redundancies that made up the security protocols.

"This one knows who you are." Luek's voice was quieter now, so different and somber that it took Kosso a bit by surprise. His grip tightened on his pistol.

"I don't think you do. And unless you're ready to spill some codes, I'd shut up if I were you."

Luek continued undeterred. "No, this one is sure. The way you fight...your anger...this is all personal, isn't it?"

"Don't act so flattered, this is just business." Kosso's words were hissed through strained teeth. Every second dealing with Luek was driving him closer to the edge.

"This one thinks not. You're one of this one's little apprentices aren't you?" His voice, cold and vast as the Kahjean sea, firmed into certainty. "You're the one that got away."

Kosso jammed the barrel of the gun into the Hanar's side. "Shut. Up."

"This one stopped looking for you long ago. Not worth the time or the money. But you just couldn't keep away, could you?" Luek continued with a deep sound that might have been a chuckle. "You came crawling right back. Yes, this one remembers. Not your name, or where you came from, or how old you were when Cirn tried to beat some sense into you...but I remember you. The rebellious one, the one always causing trouble. This one couldn't tell you how many times Cirn tried to convince it to drop you from the training, send you back to whatever lowborn family threw you at us, but what she saw as a weakness and a liability, this one saw as...potential. A pity you chose to run. You could have been worth so much more than what you are now."

Any reply Kosso could have made was cut off by the sound of the second safe door sliding open. "If this was a typical safe, I could just slap some fucking omni-gel on it and call it good." Tanya muttered, establishing a connection with the third layer of the safe, being sure to check for security systems this far into it. It was slow, tedious work, but they were getting there. "What's the status on the others? No critical fuck ups?" she asked, heart pounding and brow saturated with sweat from the tension and exertion from the fight.

Kosso stepped away from Luek, snagging a discarded drink as he did and taking a quick sip to steady himself."Oh I'm sure there's been fuck-ups," he replied, relieved to have something else to talk about. "Just none so major as to sink this mission. The stealth team's neutralized the main security hub, and I just got word that our favorite Asari has secured the gear and the auxiliary security room. All things considered, things seem to be going fairly well." He glanced over at where their host lay, silent and still.. "But we're not in the clear just yet. Might as well get to work on that third door. I'll see to Luek."

Kosso strode back over to the Hanar, gun at the ready. I tower over him like this, He thought suddenly, but I remember when it was the other way around. He didn't dwell on the thought, or the memories it invoked. Instead his foot once again made contact with Luek's side. "You're quickly outliving your usefulness, you know. Two doors down, and only one to go. So I'm only going to ask this once: what is the code?"

"Yes, this one can see that your partner is quite proficient with safe-cracking." Luek answered, a mocking edge working its way into his usually monotone voice. "You, on the contrary, need to work on your interrogation process. If you mean to intimidate me, you-"

There was a quick motion from Kosso, and a blazing blue light, and suddenly Luek was in the air, tumbling, tentacles whirling, before the crime lord came to a sudden painful stop against the opposite wall. The impact practically shook the room. The Hanar's body was barely at rest before Kosso was striding towards it, eyes directed forwards with a singular purpose. Along the way, one hand darted out to wrench an ornament from a nearby wall: an ancient Kahjean fishing spear, wrought of coral and intricately carved with forgotten script. A priceless object to be sure. A few more steps, and Kosso flung the object downwards, impaling one of Luek's tentacles. The Hanar made some low, croaking rumble that Kosso assumed to be a sign of pain. The tentacle writhed pitifully, pinned to the floor beneath and spurting a thick, clear liquid.

Kosso jammed his gun once more into Luek's side. "I'm out of patience, Luek, and now you're out of time. I'm not afraid to get this suit dirty. Give me the code, now, or I will kill you, one tentacle at a time."

The voice that came through Luek's communicator was like nothing Kosso had heard before. It stuttered, a mess of low tones and painfully high screeches, the translator doing its best to interpret the Hanar's pain. After a few seconds, Kosso was able to make out words within the jumbled syllables. "It's-It's-It's a voice loc-lock! Yo-you nee-ne-need the cod-code word! This one's voi-voice! Voice!"

Kosso pushed the barrel of his gun farther into Luek's side, twisting. "Speak, then."

There was a quiet moment as Luek composed himself, body quivering as he became still. Even the impaled tentacle came to an uneasy rest, twitching slightly beneath the point of the spear. Then he spoke, with surprising clarity. "Enter passcode: 'Aurelion may rise again.'"

Across the room, an orange light appeared on the surface of the safe's security lock. It blinked three times before being replaced with a bright green light that shone steadily. A cheerful beep echoed through the room. Then, only silence. The third door remained closed. Kosso looked to Tanya, but she just shrugged, unable to detect any silent alarm triggers.

The silence was broken by a low, echoing rumble, as terrible as the depths of the sea. Luek was laughing. Kosso's finger tightened on the trigger. "If this is your idea of a joke-"

The lights abruptly went out, casting the room in darkness. Kosso glanced around, unable to see anything besides what was illuminated by the stormy light through the overhead skylight. "The fuck-"

The floor jumped beneath his feet, sending him sprawling. The entire room jolted, tilting violently. The room was filled with a cacophony of sounds as desks and chairs overturned and wall hangings flew from their spots. Kosso tried to regain his feet, struggling for purchase on the sleek and slanted floors, but the room was already tilting again, the opposite direction this time. He went tumbling, hands outstretched, searching for something to grab. Something solid and heavy slammed into his side, winding him. He grabbed at it, hoping for a purchase, some sort of anchor, but it had already spun away in the darkness. Or maybe it was him that was spinning, as the room shook and danced, the floor tilting wildly again and again.

In a flash of lightning, he saw Tanya, clinging to Luek's holo desk as the room turned nearly 90 degrees and the floor became a wall. In another, he saw Luek, a mass of tentacles, flailing and gripping at what they could as the Hanar flung himself towards the door. Somewhere above (or was it to the side? Below? He couldn't even tell anymore) there was the sharp sound of breaking glass, and seconds later Kosso felt the cold lash of water against his face. There was some sound filling the room, the roar of some vast and powerful beast, a force of pure intensity and fury that filled Kosso with deep and primal dread. And still he fell, landed, fell, in the darkness and the sound, for what must have been only minutes but felt like hours.

Finally, things seemed to come to a rest. The floor's swaying calmed to a steady movement, punctuated by occasional shakes. The darkness was cast away as red lights flashed into life overhead, spreading a bloody glow over everything in the room. Kosso found himself pinned beneath an ornate chair; with a groan, he pushed it off of him and struggled upwards to his knees. His whole body ached now, not just his injured arm, and for a moment he thought he might have broken his leg before he managed to bend it gingerly as he rose.

The room was titled now, a near constant 10 degree angle. The furniture, once meticulously designed and placed, was now torn and overturn, thrown all about the room. Above, the skylight was shattered, and heavy rain poured through to pool on the broken glass below. The wind was howling, reaching in through the opening with wet, angry fingers. Outside, the sea was roaring, its intensity no longer muffled and hidden behind walls and glass.

"Tanya?" Kosso called as he rose shakily to his feet. His eyes searched the ruddy haze, looking for a friendly face among the rubble. "You alive?"

"Barely." Tanya coughed from behind Kosso, having lost her grip and been half tossed across the room into a shelving unit. Her arms and face had several fresh gashes from the glass, her dress torn and seeping with blood, and she was thoroughly soaked with sea water. Despite the adrenaline flooding her systems, she shivered. The sea was freezing. She wiggled her toes and fingers, testing to see if they still worked with the savage impact she had just endured. With a small amount of difficulty, she managed to remove herself from the wall, ignoring the sharp pain that seemed to come from everywhere, her back in particular. "You owe me a new dress for this." she said, limping over to Kosso. "Shouldn't have asked him for the codes, a few extra minutes would be better than... oh god, Kosso. That fucker's going to sink the ship, isn't he?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry and barely contained panic. "The others... the people on board..." she eyed the safe, everything coming to focus. "Shit!"

"Yeah, and that's not our only problem." Kosso was staring down at a certain section of floor, where, against all odds, his spear had remained lodged within the waterlogged carpet. The tentacle that he had impaled was still there as well, but now if had no owner: one side ended in a ragged bit of torn flesh, still leaking fluid. Alone and severed, the tentacle continued to twitch and curl beneath the point of the spear. "Luek's escaped. Sick bastard must have had this fail-safe installed in case things go really bad for him. Cut the primary power for the ship, and the mass effect shields keeping this ship protected go down as well. In any other case he might have had more tricks up his sleeve, but tonight all he needs is the storm. Even a ship this advanced can't stand against waves that size." He glanced up at the dim red lights overhead. "Ship must be running on auxiliary power, just enough for the essential systems. Not enough to save us, but just enough to keep us afloat...long enough for Luek to escape." He talked fast and clear, only an edge of anger in his voice.

Tanya hurried through what was amounting to ankle deep water, pooling in the once pristine study to the safe. "The fucking lock's not going to work without a power source. I'm going to probably fry my omni-tool doing this, but I'm going to try to power the system and get the last code open. I... I managed to get it down to about 20,050 variable combinations, which might take a few minutes to run through." she glanced down at her hand, which was shaking violently. She hurried to clasp it and began a breathing exercise. "Call the others... we need to get an extraction, fast. We need to get somebody down to engineering who knows what the fuck they're doing to try to get support systems back online, or this entire ship is going down and bringing everyone aboard with it." she gave Kosso a hard look. "If that bastard Luek isn't dead now, put a bullet in him quick and make him pay for this. I'll be fine. I'll find you when I have the safe open." with that, she turned to the safe, activating her omni-tool and quickly entering several command prompts and dismissing warnings as the omni-tool integrated with the safe. While the red power light returned on the safe, her omni-tool began to waver, the power fluctuating as she ran her hacking program, mind on several things at once. If she fucked it up, the safe would lock down, regardless of power, and everything would be for nothing. She brushed her soaked hair out of her eyes as she continued, trying to pretend the might of Kahje wasn't currently threatening to drown her.

Kosso's mind was racing when Tanya told him to go after Luek. Yeah, ok. He can't have gotten far, not with the ship in this condition. He's probably got an escape craft stashed somewhere onboard, but I can catch up to him if I move fast. But when he opened his mouth, what came out was: "No, fuck that. He began sifting through the ruins of the once posh room, hastily throwing furniture aside. "Luek said he has other bodyguards on this ship, and I believe him. He'll keep some with him, I'm sure, but he'll send all the others here to stop us from getting away with the info. Even with a sinking ship, he's not one to take chances, and he doesn't give a damn about the lives of his men, as we already know." In one pile of assorted splinters and shards of glass, he found his glasses. They'd been thrown from his face in the commotion, and now they were twisted and cracked. Mangled and useless. Damn shame. He tossed them aside and kept digging. Finally he found what he was looking for: one of the guard's guns. He stood, checking the ammo and firing mechanism with practiced precision. Good to go. "I'm not leaving you here alone." He called, speaking loudly to be heard over the roaring gale outside. "These guys that are coming are going to be well trained, and this time we don't have the element of surprise. You get that safe open, and then we'll go after Luek together."

There was a voice inside him, nagging. Now is not the time to be a good teammate, Kosso. He ignored it. One hand moved to his omni-tool to open a communication channel with the Tyrus. "Captain, we need immediate evacuation. Lock onto my coordinates and bring the Tyrus around quickly and quietly. We definitely don't want to be drawing any attention when we ditch this party."

The voice that responded was male, but obviously digital, its speech somewhat stilted and artificial. "Yes, Private Irak. Receiving coordinates now." I swear I'm going to kill whoever programmed this thing to address us all with military ranks. Harmless when we were safe on the Tyrus, annoying when we're facing imminent death. The AI's voice turned hesitant. "Warning: weather conditions around proposed extraction point are unsuitable for personnel boarding. Suggest establishing extraction point at new coordinates."

"There isn't any other extraction point, unless you want to fetch our bodies from the bottom of the ocean."

"I am not programmed for such a task."

"Well then, you'd better hurry up. Make it happen, cap'n." Kosso closed the comm line. The little voice in the back of his head was still talking. You're letting Luek get away. If you don't kill him, he'll come after you. And this time he won't give up the search that easily. He grabbed the edge of an overturned desk and began moving it into a better cover position. As he did so, he opened another comm channel to the rest of the crew.

"So in case you can't already tell, we're all pretty much fucked. Luek trashed the power systems and now this ship is going down fast. I've called in the Tyrus but who knows how long it'll take before it's out of the hangar, or even if we can manage to get onboard when it does show up. So you might as well start saying your prayers and hugging your neighbor, because to be honest, it doesn't look good for us." He grunted a bit as he pushed the heavy desk along the floor, shoulder afire with pain. "But Tanya and I, for our part, are getting this thing done. We're not leaving without the information. We're gonna crack this safe, and then we're going to kill that son-of-a-bitch Luek."

Satisfied with position of his new cover, he checked his gun one last time for damages. "Everything else is up to you guys. If you can get the main power systems back on, it may buy us sometime. If Tsvi or Kygg know of any other way to keep this wreck afloat, all the better. And we need to make sure Luek doesn't escape. If he does, he use every ounce of power he has to hunt us down and wipe us off the galactic plane. We still have the security feeds, or at least as many that will actually work on auxillary power. Mari, you've got the firepower: see if you can track Luek and slow him down before he reaches whatever escape he's got planned. We'll meet up with you when we're done here, and with anyone else that's still alive and kicking. Good luc-"

A bullet whizzed past his ear a fraction of a second before he ducked to huddle behind his makeshift cover. "Shit shit fuck shit." He growled under his breath, "That was fucking fast." To Tanya he yelled "Here they come! Get that fucker open!" Then he was up and firing, his eyes full of muzzleflash and seawater.

"Oh, because I was having an easy time concentrating before." she snapped, fighting the overwhelming temptation to look at the guards who were approaching. A heavy pistol round cracked at the baseboard above Tanya's head, causing her to flinch but otherwise she kept at her task, driving herself forward. If she fucked up now, everything was for nothing, and while she didn't fancy dying, she fancied being the one to drop the ball with everyone's lives on the line even less. Numbers flew by on the fading omni-tool display in rapid succession, too fast for the eye to register, and for a very real moment, she feared the omni-tool was going to break before...

Click.

"Holy shit." she breathed, pulling open the heavy door and reaching inside for the contents. A large, hefty data drive and a projection globe sat within, which she grabbed both of without hesitation and having nowhere else to put them, stuffed them down the front of her dress, the uncomfortable corners and bulk of the items extremely uncomfortable against her bare skin.She scrambled behind the desk as a pair of wild shots followed her, missing her entirely. Tanya's eyes scanned the floor, unable to locate the pistol she had taken from the guard. His body, and his weapon, were gone. "For fuck's sake..." she cursed, dreading using her omni-tool but seeing no other choice. A quick sequence of movement with her fingers on her left hand activated her combat drone's micro fabricators and she leaned over the hardwood table to launch the drone at the enemy. As 'Shithead' finished fabricating, her omni-tool glowed brightly for a moment before shattering, the pieces raining down around her arm like heated shards of glass. She pulled her hand away, shaking her entire arm with a curse. The yells of the security force were met with the sounds of micro rockets launching towards them and the hard whomp of detonations. She didn't look up to see if a kill was registered. "I'm helpless unless I can get my hands on a weapon... I shouldn't have done that." The distinctive sound of a flame thrower could be heard, along with the screams of one of 'Shithead's victims. "We're going to have to sneak around 'Shithead' or kill it, because its IFF signal came from the omni-tool. As far as its concerned, anything that moves is fair game." despite the pain and fear, she grinned at Kosso, no doubt looking like a hell of a mess with her makeup running down her face as well as the various cuts and abrasions she suffered. "Let's get the fuck out of here, partner."

Despite everything, Kosso had to smile back. "You took the words right out of my mouth." He fired one last shot before tossing the pistol to Tanya. "You're a better shot than I am anyway. Cover me, I'm about to do something stupid." He spun up and vaulted over the desk, sprinting towards the other side of the room where 'Shithead' was currently roasting the latest guard that had been bold enough to step foot through the door. Behind him he could hear the pistol barking as Tanya moved to cover his advance. Just like old times, he thought. It was only afterwards that he realized that the two of them had never been together in a situation like this before.

As he moved past the spear he'd used as an impromptu interrogation tool, he wrenched it free from the floor and carried it with him. The room was spacious, but not large by any standards. Kosso had closed the distance within seconds. Without breaking speed, he took one step onto an overturned chair and used it to springboard himself out and up over the renegade drone. His entire body was aglow with brilliant blue light as his biotics were unleashed. He drove the point of the spear downwards, into and through the top of the drone. To his surprise, the drone didn't immediately dissipate upon being struck. Instead it turned violently at the attack, the spear becoming lodged within it's side. The spear stopped; Kosso didn't. He tumbled over the drone, grasping for his weapon and missing as he fell with a splash to the floor below. He barely had time to roll behind some nearby furniture before 'Shithead' had turned its flamethrower in his direction. The flames leapt and crackled, bathing Kosso in heat as they bit at the edges of his cover. He thought for sure that the couch he was hiding behind would burst into flames, forcing him into the open, but it had been thoroughly soaked by now, and only emitted a great gout of steam as the drone torched it. "Fuck, why is this thing so durable!?" He yelled, looking for his next move.

It boggled Tanya's mind to witness Kosso's agility. It was all she could do to keep the guards trying to stream into the room heads' down with quick taps of pistol fire, the distance and size of targets not so different than the shooting range back on an Alliance base. As the drell behaved more like some kind of iron-age hero instead of a contemporary assassin, Tanya subconsciously tried to activate the disruptor ammunition function on her omni-tool, which despite having been destroyed only moments ago, still came out as something of a shock. It had become so second nature, such a part of her, the word phantom limb came to mind somewhat unnervingly. Kosso's strike on the drone was a success, but it wasn't enough to dissipate what had at one point been Tanya's pride and joy. The drell managed to climb behind cover as the flamethrower began to smother Kosso's cover in ungodly heat. His shouting, at least, was a sign he was still alive.

"What the fuck do you think I do in my workshop all day?" Tanya yelled back. "If we fucking bought the Mako or Kodiak like I'd been requesting, I wouldn't have put all my attention into this bastard!"

She popped out of cover again, firing a quick succession of bullets at a guard, taking him out by the throat, and then turning her attention on the drone, which she fired at, flakes of micro-fabricated materials chipping off with each subsequent bullet impact. It was, however, enough to distract 'Shithead' from Kosso's position before it rotated to face Tanya. She knew the drone's functions better than her own body; the very faint whirring sound it began to emit only meant one thing. She sprinted to the side of the room, overheated pistol in hand, and dove away from the desk, which splintered from the impact of the micro-rocket 'Shithead' had launched at her. She survived one crisis, but found herself in another; she was completely exposed.

"Why is it the smart people are always killed by their own creations?!" she exclaimed, dunking the pistol into the water in a desperate attempt to cool it down.

"You and your goddamned Mako fantasies! How many times do I have to tell you, we-" Kosso stopped yelling when he realized Tanya wasn't listening, the latter engaged with dodging 'Shithead's' micro-rockets. She'd evaded one, but 'Shithead' was already loading another, if the whirring sound it emitted was any indication. Kosso stood, exhaling deeply as he stretched one arm out, biotic energy crackling and fizzing along its length. He pulled back suddenly with a sharp yell, creating a pull field that expanded outwards at blinding speed. The biotic force slashed through the cloud of steam and falling rain, catching 'Shithead' just as he was firing his payload.

The drone spun erratically as he was towards the Drell, whirring and beeping. The micro-rocket that had been intended for Tanya's face spun off course, spiraling into another corner of the room before exploding in a great gout of splinters and saltwater. Kosso was moving again, sliding through the water beneath 'Shithead' as the drone was pulled violently overhead. He rolled into a fighting stance on the other side, grasping the end of his spear as it swung by and wrenching it free from the 'Shithead's' hull. The drone was already priming its flamethrower again, even as it struggled to regain control of its movement. Kosso didn't give it that chance. Another deep strike through the side, and 'Shithead's' fabricated body began to collapse. The rampaging machine made a few last death noises, clicks and beeps and frantic whirring, before it settled into the water below like the dead-weight it was, the digitally constructed materials already beginning to fall apart.

Kosso glanced over at Tanya. "We're not getting a Mako unless you can guarantee that it'll never try to murder us." There was a shout from the doorway, and he was back in action, sliding into a cover position on the wall next to the entrance. Two last guards, emboldened by the death of the rampaging drone. Kosso grabbed the first one that came through the doorway, one hand on the man's collar and another on his back as he reached from the side and swung him into the adjacent wall with enough force to leave a dent. The guard struggled, but Kosso was as efficient as ever. One strike to the neck, one kick to transfer the gun from the guard's arms to Kosso's own, and then one quick shot to the faceplate. He turned to face the second guard, newly-acquired weapon in hand, but that opponent had already pushed through the door and was advancing on him quickly. Kosso ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the opening shots as the guard pushed forward.

As 'Shithead' dissolved, its form unable to sustain itself after such structural damage, Tanya let out a sigh of relief. Had Kosso been unable to act in time, she would have been in pieces, shredded from the force of the micro-rocket. There was not much time to sit and ponder, however, as the last of the guards made their push into the room, the primary threat neutralized. Kosso quickly dispatched one of the assailants with his usual flare, although a second came in after, weapon trained on the drell. Kosso, fortunately, managed to avoid the opening salvo of submachine-gun rounds but was forced behind cover. As the man prepared to traverse the obstruction, Tanya opened fire with a series of double-taps that were trained largely at his chest. It was drilled in her to always aim for center-mass; vital organs were vital organs, and the body was a much easier target to acquire than the head. The guard was caught in the open, his only possible cover was currently occupied by a hostile assassin. Having no other choice, he swivelled, weapon shouldered, and tried to acquire Tanya before his shield failed. Without the protective barrier, the heavy pistol made short work of his armour, punching through it like a knife through a tin can. The man was dead before he had the chance to squeeze the trigger of his own weapon.

Raising up from the flooded floor, Tanya made her way over to the body, kicking it away from the weapon. She scooped the submachine-gun up from the water, shaking the salted water out of the barrel. "Glad I'm not using my own weapons. Submerged weapons are a bitch to clean properly, especially when it's salt water." she mused, as if they didn't just survive a rather determined attack and a rampaging piece of lethal technology. She offered a hand to Kosso, who took it, raising to his feet. She handed the weapon to him. "I know it's disappointing, but you can't kill everyone between us and Luek with a spear. Besides, it nearly killed you. It's lucky." she grinned. "As for the Mako, I can't make any promises about it trying to kill us. After all, isn't shoving VIs into everything the way of the future?" she gestured to the door. "Our hanar friend has enough of a head start with a bad leg... tentacle... thing. It would look bad on both of us if he managed to outrun us, yeah?"

As the pair exited the room, checking the corners and sweeping the halls, Tanya elbowed Kosso. "By the way, I'm serious. I want my tank."
↑ Top
1 Guest viewing this page
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet