Name: Yannick Kabila

Age: 29

Call sign: Lion

Race: Human, Congolese.

Creed: Silently in, Victorious out.

Official Personnel Description:
Sinewy and lithe, Yannick is a giant of a man standing at 6’3”. He has short clippered hair and as of recording of this log, a rugged beard which he continues to maintain regularly following Echelon Health & Safety protocols. Eyes seeming to carry a heavy burden, they are a dark brown in colour and accentuated with a pair of masculine eyebrows. Yannick’s face is lightly scarred, one of those scars being found protruding downwards from his upper lip down across to the underside of his chin. It is important to note that during a medical examination it was found that his entire body was covered in a layer of mismatched scars, burn marks and other such blemishes which are signs of physical torture.

It is advised that a psyche evaluation should be conducted at earliest convenience.

Armor: Yannick's Armor

Weapons:
M-15 Vindicator
M-77 Paladin

Specialty: Soldier/Arms Master/Squad Leader

Powers:
Adrenaline Rush
Concussive Shot
Armor Piercing Ammunition
Cryo Ammunition
Warp Ammunition
Barrier

Home world: Earth, North Congo Sector.

History:
Yannick lived a childhood swathed in Poverty and Death, meaning he had to learn quickly how to survive in a wicked and harsh environment that spared no sympathy over the weak and useless. His mother was terminally ill, and it was up to Yannick, who was left fatherless at an early age to fend for his younger brother, Yves, and also to help his Mother pass as painlessly as possible as they could not get the required medical attention to help her depart comfortably. Having no choice in the matter, Yannick led a life of crime, with numerous reports of stealing, mugging, scamming and other such criminal intentions.

At the age of fifteen Yannick was a well-known offender with quite a lengthy profile of disreputable acts of desperation. The rewards for his criminal activities were provisions for his family, as well as unprescribed drugs of the pain-numbing variety which he provided daily dosages of to his Mother. Not much more is known about Yannick’s childhood apart from what had been documented by the local authorities, and he still refuses to open up about his childhood during the icebreaker meetings set by Echelon Councilors.

When he was discovered by an off-duty Alliance Soldier, Yannick was found without his left arm which had seemed to have been quite literally ripped off from the socket, with him and his younger brother extremely malnourished, and his mother dead via an overdose of the unprescribed drugs which Yannick had been providing her with. The Alliance Soldier sympathised with the two young children, adopting them into the Military and providing them with an honest life and the medical stability needed for them to grow up healthy and happy.

Yannick was outfitted with a sleek black prosthetic arm, an advanced model of the X-371 Technica series which manipulates like a life-like limb, with precision and dexterity. He and his younger brother began to eat healthily, their malnourishment a distant memory as they regained a healthy weight and musculature structure within the Military Fitness Standard Procedures.

At the age of Eighteen, Yannick enrolled into the Alliance Military Academy and displayed a natural aptitude as a soldier, as well as an in-depth knowledge into weapons and their upkeep, and the tenacity of a survivor. During basic training Yannick exhibited a savage fighting style, a self-taught blend of CQC ranging from bone-shattering blows and paralyzing counter moves.

Yannick passed basic training with flying colours, gaining multiple recommendations and eventually joining a spec-ops branch of the Alliance Military for which he spent four years of his life, partaking in multiple dangerous operations which were both life-threatening and mentally strenuous. His little brother, Yves enrolled within the Alliance Military Academy as well, but his story became a tragic tale as he was killed during basic firearms training – an accidental firearms discharge left a crater in his chest, he died instantly.

Yannick didn’t learn about his brother’s death until a year after the event, information from the outside world was hard to come by during many of the Special Ops military operations. When he did find out, he abruptly left the military lifestyle, and secluded himself from any kind of contact for multiple years – nobody was able to find him.

But we did.

Echelon came in contact with Yannick and informed him of the impending threat. We don’t know what changed his mind, but he joined – almost instantly.

A subtle breeze sweeping through the dust besotting plains of Traxia cooled Yannick’s exposed back. He collected a fair amount of water from the stream with his helmet, pouring it attentively over his head and allowing the rejuvenating properties of the liquid to rest upon his supple skin. He breathed a weary sigh, taking a moment to relieve himself from the tensions of battle. Another wave of that same gentle breeze made contact with Yannick’s soaked back, sending an invigorating rush over him. He stood up, taking a long moment to breathe in that chilled air.

He looked up into the twilight sky noticing a billion stars blinking against a blanket of darkness. It was quite impossible to imagine that upon that constellation of shining lights was the place from which he called home. It was one of those existential and nihilistic moments that Yannick was found victim to on more occasions than he could count. Earth was just a small ghetto among the many backstreets of the Universe. One tragic misstep and you could miss home entirely.

Tracer fire ripped into the evening sky disturbing this fleeting moment of concord. The battle drums of artillery fire and anti-air arms cracked like thunder against that peaceful night, and it was time to take arms. Yannick rushed to strap on his armor, fastening his blinking comm. link into his ear and answering the call.

“We’re on?”

“Aye, Yannick. You know what to do.”

After buckling his armor securely into place he spoke into the comm. link again. “Set your watches for fifteen minutes, we are go.” The soldier cocked his rifle and began stalking against the terse terrain knowing full well that the rest of his team were flanking him at a one-hundred meter spread. The valley opened up into a large compound, accommodating a splintered group of Krogan insurgents from the Kragnor clan - whose only goal was to retake female ‘assets’ to empower their own clan, and to be a major pain in the ass.

“Is clan Urdnot in position?” Yannick stopped shy twenty meters of the compound with the rest of his team, awaiting the signal. “They better be,” Leopold spoke “or this mission just got a whole lot more difficult.” A flash of red invaded Yannick’s vision… that was the signal – a laser sight from a rifle. He holstered his weapon against his chest, retrieving a plasma cutter and burning through the chain linked fence which prevented their progress. “Eleven minutes” he whispered as an opening formed in the fence.

The first shots echoed throughout the facility with an undulating cry, the squad quickly took cover behind some loose sheets of metal and took up firing position. “Were we spotted?” Yannick looked through his scope and scanned the battlefield. “Aye… The Urdnot warriors opened fire. Move up!” Yannick snapped from cover to cover, looking through his scope frequently to make sure the coast was clear, and that’s when the real battle began. The Urdnot clan returned fire upon a group of Kragnor berserkers closing in on their position, and Yannick joined in. He aimed up his shot and fired a volley of rounds which hit his target’s flank, having him drop to one knee.

“Move up!” Yannick snapped out from behind cover and moved forward, blasting his rifle at the enemy insurgents, dropping two of them to the floor until he was just about ten metres from range. He was in the thick of battle now, the compound opened up into a wide area fraught with large artillery weapons and a range of transport trucks – ideal places for cover.

“Six minutes!” he hollered down the comm. link, moving up to the closest artillery gun and laying his gun at his feet. The soldier rustled for the explosive charge in his rucksack, finding it he placed it upon the gun and set the detonation charge for six minutes. The rest of his squad split off to find the other artillery emplacements as clan Urdnot drew the enemy’s fire.

The clock was ticking, Yannick picked up his rifle and fell back to cover, suppressing the enemy Krogans as the rest of his team got into position to set the charges. Three minutes now, he was keeping track of time with each Krogan he dropped. When the last of the charges were set, his squadron moved back towards the opened hole in the fence which led into the valley. Clan Urdnot began to retreat as well, and it was now Yannick’s turn to move. The soldier sprinted from cover, returning fire once again as he attempted to get to a safe distance from the charges.

He felt a hot shatter of pain splash against his left leg and it dropped him to the floor, he screamed out in agony. His firearm dropped several metres from him, and he turned to catch a glimpse of who shot him. There was a single crazy looking Krogan sprinting full force to his position; there was no way Yannick could get to his gun in time. It took all of him time just to get back to his feet when the Krogan bashed into him colliding with the soldier head on in what seemed like a tug of war. Yannick jerked backwards but quickly found his footing against his enemy and drew his knife. He leaned backwards slightly, allowing the Krogan to push onto him, and Yannick moved. A quick pirouette to the left and he was at the beast’s flank, an elbow to the head and a wound to the back with his knife was just enough to stop the Krogan. He stabbed again, this time into the side of the skull; the Krogan slumped lifelessly to a heap on the floor.

Two minutes. Yannick moved as best he could, the opening into the valley was just in sight, but the limp made it an agony. He clutched onto the detonator as he moved, leaving his rifle behind and just giving all that he got into this final sprint. There were no more Krogans firing at him now, Clan Urdnot must have succeeded in drawing the attention. Ten Seconds.

The soldier limped across the gate and pushed the button.

An ear shattering explosion erupted from behind, flinging Yannick forwards into a pile once more. His work here was done; time to let Alliance Troops take the compound.

Go Aliens!, down with the Alliance!

Name: Mionos Kyrn

Call Sign: The Hunter

Race: Drell

Creed: Silently in, Victorious out

Official Personnel Description:

Weapons:
- N7 Shadow Sword; Kylia
- M-358 Talon; Raan

Speciality: Sentinel

Powers:
-Tech Armor
-Incinerate
-Combat Drone; Theera
-Warp
-Throw
-Lift Grenades

Homeworld: Kahje

History: Mionos grew up as the eldest of four, considered a large family among the Drell. With parents who, despite low income and poverty, managed to put food on the table for him and his siblings. His father became the provider of the family, and as such, could not be around much of the time. Though when he was, he made it a point to make sure, Mionos had the ability and wisdom to protect and guild his family. He grew close with his father as he got older and his father disappeared more frequently, leaving him in charge. Despite dreary surroundings, their household never failed to make him smile. Everything seemed quaint, simple, and the young Drell liked it that way.

Slowly their father began to bring in more money, until it seemed they could afford better living, even some recreational spending. Eventually it seemed they were all but rich, but it begged the question, how was his father bringing in all this money. He shrugged it off, never doubting his father's morals; his respect for him had become too great.

One day his father never came home. There were no reports of dead Drell, and there were no calls from the man. It seemed so unlike him. Days became, weeks, became months, and they gave up the search and sank into their grief. The end seemed yet to come. After almost a year passed after the disappearance of his father, and Mionos had taken the burdens of his family as the man in his family, a knock came from his front door. Two krogan barreled through the door, and shouted for money that was owed to them. As a warning they put bullet through his youngest sister. Unable to give them what they wanted, they began to threaten another of his siblings. Desperate, Mionos jumped in the way, only to be shot and left unconscious. Unaware, the Drell hadn't died, they left him, and as a parting gift, the burn down the house and killed every member of his family. Mionos was pulled from the burning wreckage and saved.

After that, he left his home in search of those that took everything from him. Learning what he could along the way, and quickly becoming a fierce lone mercenary. All the while hoping to get a lead on the ones who turned him into the killer his is.

It's a bit rushed, but you get the idea.

Blue eyes shifted back and forth, accompanied by a ceaseless tapping. The dimly lit room held one light the came down upon a beautiful Asari that sat, jaw cocked in annoyance. Finally she sat forward, directly into the light, which seemed to shimmer off her azure visage. "Well, Mionos?" Her eyes fixed in front of her, "My men obviously don't know what they're doing. I need someone who can get the job done, I need a killer, I need you." The two Turian guards to her side shifted uncomfortably. The young Drell shifted his weight as he looked from one guard to the next. He wondered when he became more than a match for two experienced Turian soldiers. Probably, some time after he was pinched by a dozen Vorcha, or had to kill a Krogan Battlemaster in close quarters.

"Alright," his voice carried the signature Drell reverb, but Mionos still had a coolness to his tone. "I think we have a deal," a grin graced her for a second.

"I will also look into the mercenaries who you mentioned," she smiled provocatively, "Free of charge."

MIonos nodded, "I appreciate that, Lady Vr'ana."

With that he spun on his heels, and vanished into the shadowy room.

---

The statuesque Drell, marched the hall with no expression, only decisiveness. Two human stood guard the door, one seemed distracted while the other took quick notice to Mionos' rapid approach. "You know," he began, "The point of a secret base is," He pulled his pistol and fire two quick rounds, "for it to be secret." He paused next to the collapsed bodies. "Doesn't help if everyone knows where it is," he said as he pulled the info for the facility from their omnitools. Quickly passing through the door, he found himself in a series of overlapping halls, none that seemed to lead anywhere, and surprisingly little resistance. It didn't sit right. With a quick gesture, he closed his eyes, "Amonkira, guild me," and like a sign from his god footsteps echoed nearby. Following it, he found a large locked door, though that meant nothing to Mionos' hacking expertise. However, the dozen guns pointing at him from the other side did. He quickly put up his hands.

"Mionos, the Hunter," a voice called from behind the wall of weaponry. "I'm surprised Vr'ana's pockets still reached that deep," the man jeered. "To bad, not even a mercenary with a record such as yours will help her," a small volus man squeezed between his men. "I'll make it simple," he paused to take in a ventilated breath. "I'll pay you double to work for me, OR I have my men riddle you with hole right now."

Mionos simply nodded as he brough his still raised hands together, quickly activating his omni tool and with a few swipes over loaded the generators, causing the lights to blow and the door in front of him to close. Shots sparked off the door, before the backup system came online. "FIND HIM!" the volus shouted, as he turned and hit the nearest soldier in the groin. The rest of the men scattered in the search. With a clapping of his boots on the floor as he fell, Mionos appeared behind the small man, even having to crouch to conceal himself from the alerted guards. Several red dots ran around the figure of their boss.

"Put your weapons down," he said calmly.

"How did you?"

"The ventilation system, now," he gestured downward.

"Do as he says, idiots!" They complied as he expected. With a scrapping sound, a lift grenade landed at their feet. They tried to avoid it, but it was too late; they were forced into the air. Mionos stood, and walked right down the center toward the door he'd just been on the other side of, pushing the suspended men out of his way. "Are you not going to kill me?" The Drell didn't stop or look back, simply flicked his gun back and pulled the trigger. The smacking of the volus' face on the ground meant it was a satisfactory shot.

Walking back through the halls he'd came, he looked at his gun. "Three shots. Damn, I thought it would take two."