T h e [ C O N S O R T I U M ]

It had been seven days since the Reapers began their assault on Palaven. The number of casualties were too large to fathom. Angorles knew the situation was bad, not just from the news feeds but from his loss of contact with some of his business associates. He had several pods of security personnel protecting various clients' assets on Palaven, and none of them managed to get back in contact with Angorles in the last week. He grimly surmised that they never would.

He stood by the dark metal wall with his arms folded behind his back. His small white eyes looked out the large picture window at the bustling Presidium. A faint humming could be heard through the wall; it was the sound of the generator that produced the mass effect field which cloaked the window. Angorles took no chances with assassins, and although his human accomplice would complain constantly about the sound, he knew they were better off.

He turned to look at his two partners. The human had a small compact mirror in the palm of her hand which she was using to examine a blemish on her chin. Next to her was Lysia, the asari diplomat, who was sitting with her arms curled over the conference table. She emitted a sense of regality almost as tangible as the mass effect field shielding the window. "Everything is in order on my end," she declared. "I have received approval from all the major military organizations. They are willing to accept the Unity's help. This, of course, is not unconditional; we will still need to flag down their commanding officers and acquire their approval before interfering with their operations."

"Of course," Angorles said in his gruff, layered voice. He turned toward the human. "Ms. Raleen, are your people set up for the ceremony?"

The human flourished with her hands, as if to swat the question away altogether. "Of course they are," she said coolly. "As soon as we arrive, they'll start filming the ceremony. Too bad we couldn't make it open to the public; that would have drummed up a lot more excitement than a private ceremony."

"These kinds of military ceremonies are not usually public," Angorles pointed out.

"Oh, of course not, but we're not regular military, are we?" The human clicked her mirror shut and looked directly at her partners for the first time that meeting. "My people will get the vid edited and sent out to broadcast within the afternoon. Everyone on the Citadel will be talking about Project Unity very soon. Well, more than they have already."

"And they'll be donating to it," the turian added. "We won't be able to afford to adequately equip the project without money. Regardless--" He gestured for his accomplices to rise. He strode to the door, clicked it open, and stood to the side as Naria and Lysia walked through. "We've made it this far. I find myself in a... peculiar state of optimism today." His mandibles bristled as the words came to him. "I have faith in this project, more faith than I have had in anything in a long time. We should all be careful to not mess this up." There was an ominous edge in the last few words, and the warning was not lost to Naria nor Lysia. However, they had grown accustomed to Angorles's severity, and their reaction was minimal. The three of them made their way toward his armored limousine.

* * * * * * * * * *

The ceremony was being held in the Unity's docking area. The space had been blocked off for the occasion, with Angorles's security lackeys being the ones to keep civilians from crossing the perimeter. Naria Raleen's camera drones were floating around everywhere, accompanied by her best reporters. Lysia had managed to get several political figures to attend the ceremony and endorse the project. Everything was going as planned.

All the members of the Unity's crew stood erect and emotionless in rows on the left and right of an elevated podium. They donned their formal clothing, the only pair any of them were allotted and which they would only wear on this day. These uniforms were mostly black with some strips of blue along the wrists and collars, and the occasional flash of silver buttons. There were slight detail modifications for each species of the crew, but they were very well unified.

A human male with a silver-rimmed hat climbed the steps to the podium. He lifted his arms up in the air and placed his hands on the sides of the structure. His eyes were small and blue, and they surveyed the docking bay. The dignitaries had been chatting amongst each other or with the reporters when this imposing human flicked his finger against the microphone twice. Almost immediately, the attendees hushed and took their seats.

"Good afternoon," he said flatly. "I am Nikolas Kruschov, the commander of the vessel behind me." He opened his arm toward the enormous glass wall behind him. It looked out into the little pocket of Citadel airspace that housed the sleek black ship with gold stripes on its wings. "And, I am the man responsible for this fine team before me." The rows of the Unity crew stood still as statues as applause filled up the room. Kruschov let the clapping ride out, then continued with his speech. "I am going to keep this brief because there is a galaxy in desperate need of assistance, which we will begin to provide for as soon as this ceremony has concluded. Project Unity is a beacon of hope in a grim time. The Reapers have devastated homeworlds and obliterated colonies, but--" He held up a single block-like hand emphatically. "They will not defeat us if we stand united. The people on this ship are one. They have come from Thessia, Irune, Earth, Palaven, you name it, but they stand as a single unified force. This is what will make us-- not just the Unity, but the entire galaxy-- strong enough to win this war!" As he said those last words, his fist hit the podium three times like a gavel in a courtroom. Instead of creating silence, it caused an eruption of enthusiastic applause from the audience. Nikolas leaned back and watched with approval. He yelled, "We must stand as one! And why not? We all have a common enemy. The Reapers will fall at the hands of our collective might." The commotion carried on, energetic waves of hope and inspiration sparked from each clap. It had almost been an entire minute before Nikolas Kruschov leaned back into the microphone. "I am proud to lead this ship on its path to glory. I am proud to lead these brave, exceptional people to do great things, great things that start today. I will now hand the room over to the Consortium, who will answer any questions you have while the Unity takes its first flight. Thank you all for your continued support. This is the start of a new era of cooperation that will lead us beyond the Reapers to the safety and prosperity we knew before."

In one unanimous deft movement, the grid of Unity crew members snapped into an upright position. Their hands rose in salute over their determined eyes, and one by one they marched down the docking bay and into the ship.

As Talus stood stone still, he gazed at the reporters and politicians that were in attendance. I wonder how many of these people actually care about the reapers over their next campaign. He thought, as he reminded himself of how much he hated politics. Talus also wondered what it would be like working with a mix of different races. He wasn't give much time at all to meet anyone before they were ordered to stand at attention behind the podium. Humans, Volus, Asari, hmph, it seems we're one big melting pot. This is gonna be a helluva ride. Once their commander finished his speech, the crew was ordered aboard the ship to begin their journey.

A feeling of excitement washed over Talus as he crossed the threshold of the airlock. He was given a layout of the ship, but it would still take time to learn his way around the place. Talus didn't really know where to start. He was a combat specialist, and didn't really have any knowledge on how to operate a ship. He wasn't sure if he should start mingling with the crew or check on his equipment. Well, I guess my stuff isn't gonna be movin any time soon. He thought to himself. Talus then turned around to see the rest of the crew and spoke up; "Well, I guess someone needs to start introductions. The name's Talus Oravian. I'll be apart of the ground crew fighting those ugly bastards face-to-face."

Tavis felt a sense of pride as the plethora of cameras flashed at him and the crew. He also felt a bit out of place. Everyone was wearing formal clothing, he obviously couldn't because of his suit. If he had enough credits he would have probably bought a new suit without all the scarrings and dents, but he had just spent most of the remaining credits he actually had left on weaponry. He had seen his team members before he had gone in, they seemed capable enough, he just hoped the ground team that went with him were as capable as they looked.

Soon enough he was inside the ship he would call 'home' for the next while. The Turian began the introductions. It turns out his name was, Talus and he was a part of the ground crew with Tavis. Tavis took his turn after Talus and introduced himself.
"My names, Tavis, I'll be on the ground crew too" If he wasn't wearing a mask he would have probably grinned in good faith.

Urdnot Glaive didn't have a suit on, instead he wore his armor, he was somewhat of a late joiner to the crew and he didn't expect this whole ceremony. Glaive stood behind most of the crew, so he wouldn't block anyone when the photographers took their pictures. Sort of a good thing too, he was almost twice the height of some of the crew members present. The majority of the crew had military training and discipline, standing like statues at attention, Glaive was sort of good at that. But when they pulled off their crisp salutes, Glaive knew he couldn't match them and just stood still. He felt a little bad at that. His head hung a little low when he entered the ship through the airlock, he was careful not to hit the top of the entrance his with shoulder hump.

By the time he entered the ship, he overheard two people introducing themselves. Hearing that they were on the Away Teams, Glaive was pretty sure he was going to be fighting alongside them, where else would a Krogan be? The almost 11 foot armored Krogan entered the room and looked at the Turian and Volus. Just by glancing at them Glaive knew that they would be at least dependable. Judging by the armor the Volus was wearing, an armor dirtied and battered is an armored proven in combat. As for the Turian, Glaive knew that all Turians were warriors, trained at a young age.
"Excuse me, I heard that you two were on the Ground Teams? I believe I am as well." Glaive began, he bowed slightly to his new colleagues with his right hand on his chest, "I am Urdnot Glaive, I look forward to working alongside you."

Edwin always hated public actions, may it be celebrations held by his family or army parades, he had always felt like an idiot, standing there and looking representative. He wore the official uniform for the first time after many years, and it didn´t feel quite right, despite being tailored, especially for him. It have brought bad memories back and made him recall experiences he´d rather forget. But there he was, taking his part in a very expensive, interracial project with no lesser goal than the defeat of the greatest threat sentient life ever faced. Dozen years back, he would wet himself just to get the opportunity to do something like this.
Now, he was way more sober about such things. So he just stood there, as straight and professional as much as he could.
His new commander (how much he hated that dammed word) was a good speaker. He made a good point there, appealing on a same goal and enemy, saying all the things that common people want to hear. Edwin didn´t care about such things. For him it would be enough if man just said "Stand together and fuck reapers," and nothing more.

The ship looked at least as high-tech and expensive from the inside as from the outside. Edwin had only very basic understanding of spaceships, but even he could tell that this ship top class.
At first he just wanted to wander around, see what things ship has to offer, but sight of three strange figures caught his eyes. A turian, volus and a krogan. It sounded like a start of a stupid joke, but from what he had heard, it was his new team. Edwin did not know if he should laugh or cry. He chose the middle option and introduced himself. "And I will your fourth musketeer. Edwin Bellard, in all his grace."

[ S a r n e l l a ||| T i r a n e ]

On the exterior, Sarnella was as composed as the person next to her. Inside, she was buzzing with nervousness. She was never a fan of these military ceremonies. She thought they were too flashy and too impersonal to ever mean anything. Every single time she had to participate in one of these ceremonies, her and her colleagues would commiserate about the uselessness of such things afterward, with the exception of funeral and memorial services.

She snapped upright and brought her hand to her brow in a salute. She wasn't sure who exactly she was saluting, though she supposed the gesture was directed towards the audience: a mix of politicians, reporters, and who knows who else. The thought that a salute might be going to people who weren't necessarily deserving of her respect disappointed her, but she would play this game so long as these people provided something for the fight against the Reapers.

As she stood with her hand frozen above her eyes, she wondered what her group must look like from the other side. She imagined the most mismatched group she could; Krogan physique next to Volus, her own purple skin juxtaposed with the gray Turian beside her. Did they look imposing and inspirational or absolutely ridiculous? It wouldn't matter; she had read all their files, and she knew the people aboard this vessel were all very capable. She had familiarized herself with their histories, abilities, and duties aboard the ship. It was her job to know the capabilities of those around her. Their lives often depended on it.

Nikolas Kruschov concluded his speech and, as rehearsed, the crew made their way into the ship. Sarnella joined the queue of crewmen making their way through the airlock, each one only needing a second to be decontaminated by the scanner (the Citadel was very clean to begin with). Upon entering the body of the ship, a familiar feeling stirred inside her bones. The sleek interior, the glowing control interfaces, and the elaborate construction of the Command Center brought her back to her Thessian military days. It held the promise of two things: danger and dedication. The first Sarnella could handle. The second she depended on. She desperately needed something to devote herself to; her last three years of aimless existence had nearly driven her insane. The jitters rattling her bones were a thing of excitement, not apprehension.

She noticed a group of aliens forming off to the side. She noticed that it was a rather hilarious poster image of the cooperation the project was trying to promote. She considered making her way over to join them, but she figured there were enough in the group already. Sarnella decided to make her way to her station instead. There was a metal ring in the center of the Command Center. It had several control panels built into it and a large projection system bolted to the floor. She fiddled with the buttons. A large holographic map of the galaxy beamed up into the space above the metal ring. She gave a nod of approval and assumed her position at the main panel, looking up from the control interface every now and then to watch the group of Combat Specialists conversing a few feet away.

When Rayne graduated from flight school, there was music. Granted the music was just some patriotic Alliance tune played over the ceremony, but it was something. Something to spice up the otherwise dull affair of a graduation ceremony. Congratulations, you managed to not crash the simulator a few times and you know what the difference between kinetic barriers and armor plating, here's your certification and maybe if you're lucky you'll be flying something within a decade. Music, at least, helped take her mind off the fact that following her graduation her only position was a flight crew member. Not pilot. 'Flight crew member'. The only thing more vague than such a position would be stripping off the 'flight' from the title.

But here? Here, where she was moments away from actually taking the helm on something carrying more bodies than her entire graduating class, here there was no music. Rayne Teague wondered if a simple song was out of the budget. Doubtful, given the ship and the crew assembled here. Honestly, no one seemed to appreciate the value of a song. It would spruce up the boring speeches and atmosphere. Yes, the Reapers were kind of a big deal and kind of a daunting challenge, but that's no excuse not to play some kind of inspiring melody. Hell, make it a Turian song. Did they have songs? An Asari song, then. Rayne had been to Chora's Den. She knew that Asari knew about music. Or at least were really good at faking their gyrations in time with the beat.

Regardless, Rayne stood in the formation with the rest of the Unity crew, only half listening to the speech. Her mind was in the middle of a Beethoven movement. From his ninth symphony. Something to focus on. There's only so many times one can hear about the power of unity - and it was only now that she understood why the ship was called Unity, how clever - before it just starts sounding like buzzwords. Though focused on the symphony buzzing in her head, when the crew saluted in unison, Rayne was saluting right along with them. A little trick she picked up in the Alliance, when a commanding officer is giving a speech, watch the hand movements. The more wild they are, the closer he is to wrapping up.

After her salute, Rayne couldn't help but get a bit excited, though for the cameras she refrained from bouncing and grinning like a teenage girl. It took a great amount of willpower. SHe was, after all, finally getting her chance to live out her dream of piloting a ship. A large one, not a transport. Granted, in her head she always figured she'd always be flying Alliance colors, but...well...there was blue on the uniform. It counted.

Rayne followed the other crew inside, rolling her eyes at the mandatory decontamination. She wasn't here on shore leave, she didn't have time to get contaminated. Not that she would. Not without at least four dates. Good ones, at that. But the decontamination was thankfully short and she crossed the threshold into the ship proper, taking a moment just to marvel at the interior. The walls looked like Alliance by way of Thessia with how they seemed to actually shine bright enough to see a reflection. The low hum of various stations and monitors was like music. It was home, and dammit it was good to be there.

"You four gonna stand around the whole time?" Rayne spoke to the four crew members standing around, her voice quick and her accent creeping through. One was a human. Turian. Volus. Krogan. The Volus caused her to do a double take, but if he was here he had to have some sort of credentials. Or deep pockets. "Wouldn't recommend it, I might decide to get a bit fancy with me flying. Hard listing and such. Wouldn't want to see the rolly polly types rollin' around like balls. Assumin' from the way this one thinks he's d'Artagnan, I'd say you're not part of my flight crew. So I'll tell you this now, while you're being right lazy. Don't step foot on my bridge unless you're with the CO. Or the XO. No social calls. I'm not here to socialize, And the first one of you to comment on my flying is getting a date with my palm."

Rayne clapped her hands together just once to emphasize her threat, and without another word, turned to the left and headed towards the bridge. Standing in front of the helm, Rayne couldn't help but inhale sharply and exhale slowly. It all felt so unreal. She took her seat, incredibly comfortable - this clearly was not a military operation, and paused just to have her eyes dart around at the controls. The buttons. The toggles. The switches. With eagerness, Rayne began flipping switches to the upright position right before hitting a button to open a communication channel with Citadel Control.

"Citadel, this is Unity. Under going final system prep and will be clear to launch on your approval."

Rayne could get used to that. It was a good feeling, being in control like this. The fact that she would soon be flying around Reapers seemed furthest from her mind right now.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." Talus said to the small group he was in. The Volus seemed decent, though the idea of a Volus in combat kinda made him wonder about some things though, but the weirdest thing was the well-mannered Krogan. Talus had to do a double-take on him, A polite Krogan? Never thought those two words would be in the same sentence. "Well, your grace," Talus began with a hint of sarcasm, "It seems we will be the front-runners when it comes to the action-y bits. We should all sit down later and get to know one-another. I don't know about you guys, but in combat I would rather know who the guy standing next to me is, than a complete stranger."

After finishing that sentence, he noticed an Asari almost stop to chat, but instead headed towards the Command Center, Hmm, straight to work? Workaholic, Anti-social? She doesn't seem like fun Then the helmsman stepped forward for a word, [i] Ooh, fiesty. I really shouldn't mess with her, but who the hell cares? [i]

Talus decided to take a bold move and stepped right on her bridge. He waited for her to finish the request to take off before speaking, "Well aren't you just a ball of sunshine? Tell you what, as long as don't make me hurl, I won't comment on your flying, deal?"

"Unity, this is Citadel Tower, you are clear for departure. Good luck"

The response from the Citadel came with Rayne flipping a toggle upwards. The engine kicked on, causing the ship to slightly rock forward. The landing clasps holding the ship in dock were being removed and slowly Rayne moved a handle downward, letting the Unity float as the docking clamps fell away. She was more focused on making sure the ship didn't stall out and come crashing down to remark about the clear breach of personal protocol, but it was added to the list. Right under 'Successful Takeoff'.

As the final clamp was lifted away, Rayne placed both hands on the steering throttle and pushed them towards her. The Unity drifted backwards, pulling away from the dock. Slow and easy Rayne went, ensuring nothing came into contact with the ship, that she pulled away from the landing pad. This was the easy part. In flight school, students had more trouble with landing and docking than they did with taking off. She never understood why, landing was easy too. It was high-conflict maneuvers that were the hard part, but the simulators didn't have much of those. Trial by fire proved to be a far better learning tool.

With the Unity clear of the landing zone, Rayne turned the throttle, the ship spinning to the right, its front now pointing out of the Citadel and out towards space. With a push of the throttle forwards, the Unity was off, its thrusters putting in the work and lighting up the path behind them. "Teague," the voice of the commanding officer sounded in her comm, "Chart a course for the Caleston Rift. Talava System."

The Caleston Rift was situated in the Terminus Systems. Made sense. Going to an area of space outside of Citadel control. Though with the threat of the Reapers, what sectors even were under Citadel control anymore? Rayne input co-ordinates as the Unity approached the nearby Mass Relay, the warp core already booting up. "You had one rule, infantryman," Rayne spoke to the Turian intruder as she flew towards the Relay, her gaze still locked dead ahead, focused and clear, "One simple rule. But you decided you'd rather be cute and make a joke. Not the best start to our working relationship."

The Unity pulled up alongside the Relay and in a sudden burst they were shot forward, warping towards the Terminus Systems. In the middle of their warp, Rayne turned around in her chair and in one motion stood up and slapped her open palm across the Turian's right cheek, Or what she figures was the Turian equivalent. Slapping a Turian was not like slapping a human. Not as soft. But the gesture was the same. "You had your warning. My bridge is off limits to you grunt types. I don't need you distracting me or whatever it is you do."

The Unity came out of warp in the Caleston Rift. Rayne returned to her seat and picked up the controls once more. They were well on their way to the Talava system. And she hadn't crashed yet. So far, so good.

Sarnella felt the slight jolt of the ship as they propelled through the relay, which was rather amazing considering how fast they must have really been going. She looked up from her station and watched the busy crewmen take their places. They went directly to their consoles and assumed an impressive down-to-business demeanor, faces drawn taut and fingers flashing across various controls.

Just when Sarnella was beginning to wonder exactly where the ship was headed, the human commander approached her. His footsteps were hard and heavy against the metal floors. He came to a stop next to the asari specialist. His cold stone-like eyes focused on her from under the shadow of his military cap. Sarnella straightened and gave him a salute. He responded with a curt nod, then turned to the galaxy map and held down a button for the intercom.

"This is your commander. We are headed toward the Caleston Rift in the Talava System for a rescue mission. Combat specialists, report to the conference room on deck one A-S-A-P." He removed his hand from the button and directed his gritty voice toward Sarnella. "I've forwarded you all the files on this current mission. Familiarize yourself with the information."

"Yes, sir," Sarnella obediently replied. She watched him go, his arms barely moving beside his blocky torso as he walked toward the elevator. She wasn't a big fan of the commander yet; he seemed unduly cold and hardened, though Sarnella supposed she preferred that over wishy-washy authority. It did irk her a bit that he had told her to get to know the mission, since that was in her job description and she knew to do it already. She filed the thought away; she would give the commander more time before forming any more judgments about him, purely out of hope that he wasn't the total hard-ass he seemed to be.

Her fingers flit across her console, opening and scrolling through various documents pertaining to their mission. Speed-reading was a handy talent in her line of work; she was able to get through most of the information in five minutes. They were headed toward a colony in the Talava System called Benry. The first thing she checked was the atmosphere. Turians, humans, and krogan wouldn't need survival masks, but the volus would, as usual. The area they were headed to was a station in the southernmost part of a triangle-shaped continent. The area was colored by plentiful plant life and mountains, most of which had pathways carved into them by the settlers. The rest of the colony had been evacuated, but this station had gone dark just an hour prior to their planned departure. The files said the station was where the colony's militia was based, which would explain why they were evacuated last. There had been reports of Reaper cannibals, similar to the ones seen on earth. Sarnella wondered what else might be lurking amidst the dense vegetation of Benry.

She frowned; she didn't feel entirely comfortable with such a small amount of information. She would have to rely on the ground team to be her eyes and ears and, while they were investigating or fighting off Reaper scouts, she'd have to make sense of their observations. She called up the doctor from her console. She ordered up Dr. Crowley to the command center to go through the files on Benry's insect life with her. She wanted to know if any of the insects could infect the crew with any kind of chemical that might harm them, and Crowley was the closest thing to an expert aboard the Unity.

The stinging pain from the slap would probably sit there for a good minute, but it wasn't anything Talus couldn't handle. He just simply rubbed the spot in the feigned hope it would help ease the pain away. "Well at least there's no question about my bravery. Oh, and I don't know about you, but it's hard to trust a pilot with your life when you don't know who that pilot is. So how's this, let's start off with a name, and I'll try to leave you alone. My name is Talus Oravian. Now, am I getting a name, or is another palm coming my way?"

However, before the pilot was able to answer, the CO came over the intercom ordering the ground crew to meet in the Conference room for a mission briefing. Talus turned his head while walking away, "I expect a name when I get back Ms. Sunshine." The hum and drum of the ship would put anyone to sleep if there were no other sounds, but with all the commotion, that was unlikely. Though listening to it did give Talus a sense of comfort in otherwise fairly new territory.

The Talava system, didn't my old squad and I have to deal with some slavers there? Talus thought to himself as he passed all the consoles and rode the elevator up to Deck 1. The conference room seemed to be in the middle of the deck while the CO's and XO's cabins flanked it on the opposite side. Two simple sliding doors were that stood between the CO and Talus now. The doors slid open with a resounding hiss and closed the same way once he crossed the threshold. Talus took a look around the room before picking a spot at the table to stand at. A rather plain room, it was easily noticeable the interior designer had prior service on starships. A large table dominated the room with an intercom system in the middle. While the room may have been boring, Talus was sure this place was sound- and bug proof to hinder any would-be spies. Never can be too sure nowadays.

And finally, the only left of importance in the room was the commander, who stood at the opposite end of the table, simply waiting for the room to fill up before he gave the briefing. Talus figured now would be a good time to meet the commander before anyone interrupted them. "Hello Commander Krushov. I don't think introductions are in order, at least not yet anyway. Will you be joining us on the ground missions?"

Tavis nodded to each of the ground crew after the introductions were finished. The Krogan was more polite than the other Krogan's he'd met in the past. They'd just want to get down to business or want to only communicate with other Krogans. This one seemed more reasonable. He hadn't formulated an opinion about the Human yet, too little information. He watched as, Talus moved to the bridge before promptly meeting their new pilots hand. He seemed rather cocky, he hoped it wouldn't endanger any missions they went on. He felt a bit of anger when the pilot called them 'grunt types' but it soon passed, he wasn't one to hold grudges.

Soon enough, the intercom sounded and informed them that they were wanted in the conference room. Tavis' first mission with an Alliance regulated group. He wasn't sure if he felt happiness or a sense of restriction. Nothing he could do about it now though, the pay was good and he got to have his name down in history, even if it might have just been a footnote to commander Shepard's achievements.

He made his way into the elevator after the Turian and waited for it to arrive at the right floor. He exited out after, Talus and stood near the table, his head just peeking over it. The room was pretty dull, a bit of colour would have been nice even if it was just to break the monotony of the white that surrounded the conference room. He hoped the first mission wasn't something to hectic, dealing with foreigners was always a pain when they couldn't take you seriously for race differences.

Edwin already like their new pilot. She looked hard as nails with balls bigger than their krogan comrade, and that bastard got a two pairs of them. From what she said, and from the way she talked, it was sure she doesn´t just play around and means business.
Her overall professionalism have almost made him say some kind of a cheeky comment, but turian guy seemed to be first to play with the fire. At first it seemed that pilot ignores the intruder in her bridge only to shoot him down in the second. There was always something in slaps that made Edwin smile, and this time it wasn´t different. It was only pity that he hadn´t recorded it, the sight of turian being slapped by a tiny woman was something that would be a hit on holonet.
First time they will be on a short leave, he will definitely buy her a drink, despite the fact that she would have probably beat him with a bottle at the moment she saw him anywhere near.

Edwin would just stand there with amused grin until the end of the day if there wasn´t a call from the commander. He sighed a little and went towards the briefing room. He was a little curious about what could their first mission be. There were some doubts about his new team mates. Edwin usually worked on his own and he had a plenty of a good reasons why to do so. He had some terrible experiences with teammates that looked way more professional than the one he was assigned with on Unity.
He had no problem with turian, those guys were born soldiers and they were quite skilled in their job, but rest of his new team worried him. Krogan was way more polite and tranquil then krogan should Either he was particularly calm exemplar or he was under sedatives, and frankly, none of those ideas sounded appealing to Edwin. The volus mercenary was a chapter itself. It was ridiculous, like a male asari or a krogan pacifist. But here he was, little armed ball of mass destruction. Maybe they throw him, or roll him, on the reapers. Element of surprise is a key, and who would expect little volus being threw at them?

He came into room just a few moments after Talus, only nodding to greet his new commander. He didn´t feel any urge to introduce himself. Edwin knew who the man was, and if he was any good leader, he knew who was Edwin.
Room did not really surprised him. He saw such rooms on dozens of ships and they were all same. There always was a big table in middle, a big monitor with all necessary information and an uniformed jerk in charge who would present them. Only thing Edwin missed were chairs. One would think, that when he is expected to fight the dreadful reapers and their hideous creations, he would at least a place to lay his legs.

"Hello Commander Kruschov. I don't think introductions are in order, at least not yet anyway. Will you be joining us on the ground missions?"

Kruschov's blocky fingers grabbed his peaked cap and pulled it more snugly over his head. The turian beside him was very tall, like most of his kind, and the commander had to tilt his head to make eye contact. Kruschov considered offering a handshake, but he did not want to impose human customs upon an alien. He instead nodded toward the warrior and said, "You must be Operative Oravian. Welcome aboard." His tone was welcoming enough, though there was not even a trace of a smile on his incorruptibly stern face. He went straight to business. "Your previous military experience will be very useful to this ship, today and perhaps more so in the future. More on that later." He heard the mechanical woosh of the elevator doors opening, revealing the rest of the squad. They surrounded the conference table wordlessly. Kruschov noticed their curious glances around the room. This is the strangest sight I have ever seen, Kruschov thought, taking note of the assortment of species under his command. He did his best to summon up their names and the memorable information from their file. There was the volus sharpshooter, Tavis-Dev. Beside him stood Edwin Bellard, the ex-Alliance sole survivor. Beside Kruschov was Talus, a former member of the renowned Garrus Vakarian's Reaper task force. Lastly, there was Urdnot Glaive, described as the most benign krogan one would ever meet. Judging by the daunting size of his kind, the commander figured he would still be exceptionally lethal. After recalling these characteristics of the crew assembled around him, Kruschov wondered what their impression of him was.

He cleared his throat and leaned into his hands, which lied flat on the conference table. "Welcome aboard the Unity," he said in his just-loud-enough, gravelly voice. His defined brow bone hung over his eyes like a bumper. His thin lips were taut under the architecture of his stony nose. "As you know, I am your commanding officer. You will get to know me and my ways soon enough, but right now we have a mission." He straightened up. His hands found each other behind his back. "I would have liked to hold sessions with you all before beginning an operation, but this war does not allow us that luxury. You all have very different backgrounds, but every one of you has been in numerous combat situations. Evidently, you all have survived." There was an emphatic pause. "Today will be no exception. Follow my command, never let your guard down, and fight hard. If you do those three things, we'll have a fighting chance. Don't, and you'll either get yourself killed or get someone else killed."

Finished with his introduction, Kruschov summoned up a holographic image over the conference table. It showed a rotating planet labeled "Benry." The commander zoomed into a specific continent on Benry. It was shaped like a triangle with the center point turned southward. He gestured toward a blinking icon on the map. "We are headed to the station where this colony's militia is based. Reapers have been moving into the system gradually. In preparation, all the colonists were evacuated-- except for the militia. They stayed behind to make sure everyone got out safely. They were supposed to leave today, but Reaper troops swooped in before they could." His omni-tool glowed around his forearm. He hit a few buttons to change the image being displayed. There was an array of hideous-looking creatures floating above the conference table. Each vaguely resembled a different species, "These are the enemies we will be facing. People have taken up calling this one the cannibal." He gestured toward one monster. It had many eyes, like a batarian, and a huge hump in its back. "Basic foot soldiers. The marauders, the turian-looking ones, are a step up. They coordinate the cannibals. Then, we have the ravagers. If you see one, take cover and stay down. They will lob powerful projectiles your way, usually in short bursts. Get hit by even one shot, and you'll most likely be dead."

The elevator hissed open. An asari walked with long strides toward the conference table. She held a datapad in one hand and saluted the team with the other. The commander looked expectantly toward her.

Sarnella didn't introduce herself; there would be time later. She took control of the display and provided the last bits of information available for the team. In a composed but accelerated voice, she began to relay her findings. "We've analyzed the atmosphere on Benry. Whatever gear you need to breathe in this ship will be enough for this planet. Our resident doctor has reviewed the most common plants and insects on the planet, analyzed their toxology, and compared it to each species' physiology. Physical contact with some plants and bites from certain bugs may cause minor irritation, but nothing serious. However..." The image of a peculiar plant came on. It had a short, wide black trunk. On top of it was an overwhelmingly large red bud. It was so plump it looked like it could burst. "The locals call this plant the "boom flower." Sudden physical contact will cause it to erupt, spraying a dense cloud of harmless but inconvenient brown gas in the air."

Kruschov's hand cradled his chin thoughtfully. "A potential tactical advantage," he surmised. Sarnella nodded.

"I'll take any questions or concerns now. Then we'll head to the armory to gear up."

(Whoops, forgot about this for a moment! Quick post!)

Glaive analyzed the Reaper troops closely. They didn't seem weak in the slightest. The Cannibals wielded an arm cannon that undoubtedly powerful due to its size. The Marauder seemed the weakest, but Glaive knew better, they probably had some ability to boost the strength of the Reapers around them. The Ravagers seemed familiar, he couldn't quite put his tongue on it. He ignored it for now, he assumed the Ravagers would be ranged fire support, but what were those sacks? Most likely weak points, but why would the Reapers design a warrior with such blatant weak points? Glaive mused to himself for a second, they would see during the mission.

The Commander asked if there were any questions, and Glaive rose from his seat. "Excuse me, but what of the MIlitia itself? What is their status?" Glaive concernedly inquired.

((Made a slight edit to my last post to keep Sarnella in the room.))

Sarnella made a point to read as many dossiers of the crew as she could. She had researched all the combat specialists, so when Urdnot Glaive made a very polite inquiry, she should not have been surprised. His file said "Uncharacteristically diplomatic and courteous for his kind," which Sarnella thought was both offensive and amusing.

"We don't know," Sarnella said, feeling a little deflated at the absence of intel. It was her job to know these things, but it was impossible to see all the cards. "I tried to make contact with them, but no one is answering on their end. I was also able to slip into their network to scrounge up some extra information on the facility. It would seem their security systems are down, which is foreboding. The best I could do is guess about the militia's situation." And Sarnella did not like to guess, so she left it at that. The commander's eyes seemed to tell Sarnella to wrap things up since the troops would be deploying in five. Sarnella raised up her omni-tool to tape a few buttons. The omni-tools of everyone around the table started to blink. "I found the layout of the facility in their files. Downloading it to your omni-tools."

"Wait," the commander said suddenly, holding up a hand in warning. "How do we know the Reapers didn't repurpose that file? It could be a virus of some sort."
Sarnella took a second before responding; she didn't want to have an argumentative tone. "Tech already checked it, sir. They said it's a clean file."
Kruschov slowly removed his hand from the air, tucking it into his crossed arms. He nodded. "We'll hear a lot of Specialist Tirane when we're on the ground. Relay information to her as we get it, so her and her department can find us as many advantages as possible." Hell, we'll need it, Kruschov thought grimly. "We're almost there. If anyone else has questions, ask them on the way."

The commander gave a conclusive nod and took brisk but carefully choreographed steps toward the elevator. He was the kind of man who always hid buttons and keys a little too forcefully. The elevator door whooshed open with the same immediacy, and he stepped inside.

The Unity entered into the atmosphere of Benry under the smooth guidance of its helmsman. Rayne was glad that the turian - she had already forgotten the name he gave her, was called away. For one, she was rolling her eyes at his persistence, and for two she was simply glad that he didn't have time to bother her. Especially not when she was about to fly towards the first destination. The commanding officer had input the co-ordinates for the colony of Benry. Rayne had never been. Though the Alliance often sent her on rescue flights for their black ops troops, rarely did she get to this corner of the Terminus Systems.

"Arrival in two," Rayne spoke into the intercom, patched directly to the away team. Pulling out the Benry militia. Simple. A routine rescue, hit the ground, secure the troops, get back to the L.Z. Alliance ran this op in training, and she was fairly sure the troops aboard the Unity were up to the simple task. Or else they'd not be on the return flight. A blinking red signal on the Unity's console caused Rayne to bring her eyes to the light source. And then quickly back towards the windows.

"Drop is hot, away team. Repeat, drop is hot." Rayne took a deep breath and continued on the course. The landing zone was home to cannibals, she couldn't get an accurate number but it was less than a full squadron. If Reaper forces even had squadrons. One of the cannibals spotted the Unity and opened its maw, letting out an alerting scream to the troops that were busy living up to their cannibal designation. The troops in the drop zone began shooting towards the Unity. Rayne gritted her teeth and flew past the landing, tilting the ship to the left to avoid blasts - which ones she didn't avoid hit the kinetic barriers.

"I'm gonna circle to the back of the colony. Ground team, you're gonna need to secure an L.Z. for extraction, I'm not flying your asses out while having to watch my own. Approaching drop in thirty."

Rayne dropped the Unity low, hovering over a flat tract of land near the back of the colony. She doubted it would stay devoid of Reapers for long, but that's what the ground team was for. "Clear for drop, ground team."

((Sorry, I've been really busy this week. Here it is.))

Sarnella watched through the video feed of the garage. The mouth of the ship opened, just wide enough for a krogan to fit through. The ground team launched onto the ground, and Sarnella felt the ship lurch away from the scene. She was impressed with the speediness of the deployment; she made a mental note about the pilot's capabilities.

Commander Kruschov's feet hit the ground with satisfying impact. He felt the adrenaline disperse through his body, bringing up his assault rifle over his gray armored chest and immediately dispatching two cannibals. They were the slowest of the small squadron to react. "Take cover!" the commander hollered, bounding forward three steps and then diving behind a crate of cargo.

The scene of deployment was like an open courtyard. There were two supply huts on either side, and an array of abandoned crates of equipment in between. Ahead of them was a tall fence armed with a security system, and beyond that, the facility itself. Dense tropical forestry popped up around the entire scene, but the grounds around the facility had been completely cleared of trees. Behind the fence and in the militia's overhanging crows nests were cannibals, dispatching shots towards the ground team.

Kruschov was on his back. He scooted to the edge of his cover and risked a quick glance. It was a swift motion, leaning out and then back in, and anyone unused to the stresses of combat would not have noticed all the details he noticed in that quick stolen look. He verified that there were enemies with height advantage up in the crows nest. Their weapons were perched up high in tall towers with slanted walkways. "Get low down!" Kruschov commanded. "They have height on us. Don't let your head pop over cover!"

He had also seen a firing line of enemies, perhaps cannibals, on the other side of the fence. Their suppressing fire was unrelenting.

Edwin couldn´t help himself not to feel excited about upcoming deployment. He felt his body preparing for the action, feeling the same sensation he always did when waiting. His neck hairs stood up, his heart beat faster than ever and he shivered a little
. There was a storm coming and Edwin was going to greet it with opened arms.
Not only his body was prepared, but also his equipment was as in state of full readiness. Wearing his old shabby armor and with highly modded sniper rifle at hand, he was prepared for everything reapers could throw at him.

Edwin nervously counted every second until his deployment, trying to ease his nerves, but it didn´t help very much. Only reliable way to calm himself would be cigarette or two, but smoking was kind of unpractical with helmet, not to mention that they were prohibited on most of starships. He could only wait and hope that waiting will not drive him mad.
The moment when the ship settled down and enemies started to fire was like waking call to Edwin. He became another person. His nerves had calmed down and he finally felt relied. Only when he was under fire and his life was on an edge, Edwin felt truly alive. Felt home.
He headed weapon towards the enemies, took a short look through his scope and shot. First cannibal had fallen down with his head pierced. Few seconds later and second cannibal fallowed, shot coming right through his eye. Edwin haven´t thought about any of his shots, shooting was more like a muscle reflex than intention to him.
He wanted to line up few another shots, but the situation became too dire. He decided to dash for cover instead, hiding behind couple of crates. "What´s the plan, boss?" he asked, surprisingly spiteless.