[CHAR] Mass Effect: Borealis

[Dervish]

Name: Tanya Carson

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Age: 28

Class: Engineer, Vehicle Mechanic and Weapon Tech

Appearance:


Picture commissioned by Riley Stark, many thanks!

Tanya stands at 5'06" and sports a lean, strong frame of the Alliance Marine she once was. She sports a piercing gaze with her dark grey eyes and a non-regulation crop of nearly black hair that gives her a somewhat wild appearance. She carries herself in a confident but independent way.

Background: Born 2148CE to a Systems Alliance Marine named Lieutenant-Commander Eric Carson, Tanya was born a month after the Prothean relics were discovered on Mars. Tanya’s father was initially a member of the British Armed Forces, but when the Systems Alliance Charter was formed a year after Tanya’s birth, he found himself transferring to the newly formed alliance of 18 independent nations with the hopes of being among the first humans to see another solar system. The discovery of the Prothean artefacts confirmed what he always suspected; there was other intelligent life in the galaxy. Lt. Commander Carson signed on with 4th Frontier Division, attached to the 6th Fleet, and the Carson clan found themselves among the first colonists on the newly discovered Terra Nova.

Tanya’s family had a long history of military service, and she is able to trace her ancestry back to the Napoleonic Wars. The firstborn males had a tendency of enlisting in the military, a proud Carson family tradition, although that was by no means the only member of the family in the service; during the Boer War, seven Carson brothers fought in South Africa, and only four came home. The man who would eventually end up becoming Tanya’s great-great-great-great grandfather brought home his Lee-Enfield rifle and passed it down to his firstborn son upon his deathbed. This was the beginning of a well-established family tradition.

Terra Nova was the first home Tanya remembered, and the dark, barely hospitable planet seemed perfectly normal to her, although she noticed her parents often argued over their new home. Terra Nova was a dark, mostly desert world with scorching temperatures and an atmosphere with high concentrations of methane and carbon dioxide, making it uncomfortable for the initial Earth-Born colonists to acclimatize to. Their argument was put on hold when an incident at Shanxi in 2157CE caused the 4th Frontier Division to assign regiments on loan to the 2nd Fleet as a reaction force, with the promise of being returned to the 6th Fleet after the incident was resolved. This incident would become the First Contact War, and Lt. Commander Carson’s first encounter with extra-terrestrial life would prove to be fatal. He returned to Terra Nova to a grieving wife and an only child.

Tanya was only 9 when she lost her father, and instead of growing to hate the aliens who killed him, she wanted to know who they were. She had grown up on the knee of her father, telling her stories of great wars long past and the deeds of her ancestors. This was no different, only the enemy wasn’t human. Her father died a hero, and while she missed him terribly, she was proud of him. He may have died, but he took out half a platoon before he succumbed to his wounds, the man who came to their prefabricated home told them.

To Tanya, these turians were probably like the Dutch, French, Russian and German enemies of her ancestors’ past. If they could learn to forgive each other after decades, if not centuries, of fighting, maybe the turians wouldn’t be so different. To her surprise, her prediction came true shortly after the counter-attack and Tanya was shocked to discover there were more aliens out there than just the turians, and they were the ones who stopped the war.

While Eric Carson didn’t leave a son behind, his daughter was more than willing to pick up the mantle. Despite her mother, Belle’s, protests, Tanya took to wanting to learn how to be a marine like her father, and get off of Terra Nova to see who these aliens were in person. She threw herself into learning how the family vehicles worked, as her father had shown her, and continued shooting with her father’s hunting rifle. Her life was becoming increasingly surrounded by machines as well as her school studies, and she was on a fast track to joining the Alliance as a combat engineer.

Her dreams were almost derailed by a falling for a boy named Gary she had grown up with on the colony whose father was close to hers, and both never came home from Shanxi. The two threw themselves at becoming mechanics and he had all but convinced her that the colony needed people with their skills. It was true, in their suburb in Scott, barely anyone knew how to maintain their own vehicles, as most of the skilled members were in the Alliance and needless to say occupied elsewhere. They were even set to get married after a whirlwind romance when Gary was killed on his motocycle the week before the ceremony, leaving Tanya bitter and alone. Three months later, in 2166CE, Tanya enlisted in the Systems Alliance 63rd Division and specialized as a combat engineer shortly afterwards. Before she left Terra Nova, her mother presented Tanya with the old Lee-Enfield rifle and her father’s medals, and her blessing to do what all Carsons were born to do.

In 2170CE, Tanya and the 63rd Division found themselves moving in respond to the bartarian slaver raid on Mindoir. Tanya did not know much about the bartarians other than they didn’t see eye to eye with humanity over colonization rights, but the brazen attack on the colony left her shocked. Her unit deployed and she had her first taste of combat, and it was not a positive experience. Her unit was heavily outgunned and the casualties were staggering; the 63rd was unable to break the bartarian lines and attempt to rescue the colonists. Tanya found herself running off less than 4 hours of sleep in two days, and the new A-61 Mantis Gunships and M29 Grizzlys were in constant need of repairs due to the chaos of combat. While the men and women of her platoon fought off a bartarian counter attack, Tanya fought in the way she knew best; fixing the hell out of anything that needed it. Because of her efforts, there was enough armour and air support to keep their line from collapsing. She was awarded a Distinguished Service Medal for her actions.

After the battles in Mindoir, the 63rd was deployed in various regions of the galaxy, and Tanya had found herself becoming rather bitter at the whole affair. She had regular nightmares about what she’d seen on the colony, and couldn’t shake the feeling of that happening to Terra Nova. For the next 3 years, Tanya served with the Alliance until she decided to retire with honours after seven years of service in 2173CE. She returned home for a time until she grew restless, realizing her place was with the galaxy. After taking off to Elysium to look for work in the wake of the Skyllian Blitz, she decided to take her chances with an upstart crew where she could make her mark on the galaxy - and escape from her demons.

Equipment:

-Elanus Risk Control Services M-15 Vindicator Assault Rifle
-Ariake Technologies M-23 Katana Shotgun
-Elanus Risk Control Services M-3 Predator Heavy Pistol
-Kassa Fabrication Polaris Omni-Tool
-Devlon Industries Explorer Light Armour



Powers:

-Energy Drain
-AI Hacking
-Cryo-Ammo
-Sabotage
-Combat Drone
-Incinerate
Font Colour: Cyan, 6ecff6

[Dervish]

Name: Ravanor Tonka

Race: Krogan

Sex: Male

Age: 254

Class: Infiltrator, Commando, ship engineer

Appearance: Standing just shy of 2 meters in height at the top of his hump, Tonka is built much like any krogan; huge, powerful, and covered with thick plating. His crest is a charcoal grey that tapers off into a forest green, which combined with a dark tan complexion gives him a very earthy tone. His eyes are a few shades lighter than his crest, rimmed by softer black skin that contrasts with his hide. Because of his relatively cautious approach to hostile environments and methodical means of carrying on his work, Tonka remains largely unblemished by scars and has no real distinguishing characteristics that set him apart from other krogan.

Background: Born and raised in Ravanor Clan territory on Tuchanka, Tonka was destined from birth to work in the massive mining operations that dominated Ravanor territory where the clan had dug deep into Tuchanka’s mineral rich crust for valuable materials for countless generations. The oldest in a clutch of 3 brothers and a sister, Tonka was put to work almost as soon as he could carry heavy loads for the miners. Instead of gravitating towards the drilling and blasting that was the draw for many in the clan, Tonka took an active interest in the heavy machinery that ran the operations and he made it his mission to learn from the mechanics that kept them operational, eventually becoming something of an apprentice under Orankdra, the chief engineer that kept the massive drills running.

Clan Ravanor’s Rite of Passage superficially resembles that of the quarian pilgrimage where the unblooded krogan are sent out into Tuchanka’s hostile wastes to salvage something of use to the clan, be it arms, vehicles, or equipment that can help maintain the mining operations. Tonka set out with his brothers, Krul and Panzak, to the location of a major battle between Clans Ravanor, Forsan, and Weyrloc 30 years prior. While the site had been picked clean over the years, the trio knew that some treasures simply had to be excavated. Working in the cover of the dawn and twilight hours and keeping hidden during the day, the brothers worked tirelessly for several days, occasionally fending off predators. Fortunately, their luck held out and no raiding parties from other clans had stumbled across them before they had discovered a buried Tomkah that had fallen into a chasm and been buried by drifting sands. Stripping the machine of several invaluable components that had survived damage and been sealed off from the elements, as well as a cache of factory-new weapons, the brothers had their offerings to the clan and made their way back to Ravanor territory, mercifully without more than minor encounters with the occasional varren. The Clan Shaman welcomed the trio of victorious youth into Ravanor as blooded members of the clan, where they now possessed breeding rights and the option of leaving Tuchanka if they chose to do so.

While Panzak couldn’t have gotten on the next expedition off Tuchanka faster if he was a professional sprinter, Tonka chose to stay for some time, deciding to master the various equipment the clan had possession of and often volunteering to go out and locate replacement parts in the wastelands if need be. Because of this, he enlisted his services in the clan’s scouts as his mandated duty as a krogan to be a soldier as well as a miner. Here he learned the finer points of marksmanship and stealth, becoming one of the few krogan on Tuchanka that didn’t see battle as a chance to charge in head-first for glory, preferring to avoid a fight unless he knew he had the advantage or there was a better reason for remaining undetected. These skills also translated into Tonka becoming a proficient hunter, and he would soon be able to proudly proclaim, “There’s nothing that walks, shits, or flies on Tuchanka I haven’t eaten”. This ample supply of food kept him and his camp satisfied, and life soon took on a rhythm as predictable as the rising and setting of Aralakh. For a krogan, that stagnation might as well have been a death sentence and Tonka found himself growing restless.

Opportunity came in the form of an Illium-based merchant vessel that had illegally entered the krogan DMZ to sell weapons and purchase the raw materials Clan Ravanor produced to sell for a higher market value in the Terminus System. Offering his services in exchange for transport off world, Tonka soon found himself in the service of one Alisia Donari, a freelance entrepreneur who had sights on creating a manufacturing empire across the Terminus Systems. The krogan became something of a curiosity as a relatively non-abrasive personality and a strong desire to learn new technical skills flew in the face of much of the popular perception of the krogan people. Within months, Tonka proved popular among the crew of the Intrepid Valor, largely thanks to his no-nonsense attitude and aptitude for mechanics and the fact that if there was damage outside of the ship, he would not hesitate to go EVA to work on it, even in hostile conditions that would harm any other species.

Decades of service later, including a few run ins with would-be pirates, Tonka had an impressive service record across the Terminus Systems that spanned over 20 ships and a length of employment that had surpassed the lifespans of several of his coworkers. Deciding rather suddenly that he was getting bored of his relatively comfortable position managing shipyard retrofits, Tonka left the company with a retirement package that all but ensured he could live out the next 50 years of his life without having to work. This, clearly, is not something that agrees with a krogan’s temperament, and after weeks of self-imposed vacation, the krogan had stumbled across one of the most charmingly awful recruitment contracts he had seen. Deciding to return to his roots of barely functional machinery in adverse conditions, Ravanor Tonka made his way to Ilium, where a certain Captain Jerrell Luzami promised far more than he’d ever be able to deliver.

The offer was irresistible.

Equipment:

-Rosenkov Materials Volkov Sniper Rifle
-Kassa Fabrication M-55 Argus Assault Rifle
-Elkoss Combine M-4 Shuriken Submachine-Gun
-Armax Arsenal Predator-M Armor

-Kassa Fabrication Polaris Omni-Tool

Powers:
-Tactical Cloak
-Disruption
-Overload
-Sabotage
-Concussive Shot
-Ballistic Blades

Font Colour: Green, 39b54a

[Hellis]

Name: Drono ”Blink” Laken.
Race: Drell
Sex: Male
Age: 34
Class: Infiltrator. Weapons Tech and Gunner

Appearance:

Standing a modest 5'8 tall, drono isn't a large or imposing figure. He posses a strong and althetic build, made for practical strength an agility. His skin is blue, his eyes the typical black of his race. He wears all black usually, with a fitted, sleek infiltrator suit underneath some baggier, black clothing. He generally wear his hood up over his head.

Background:
"The average lifespan of a Drell is around 70 to 85 years if they do not attract Kepler Syndrome. The life expectancy of drono was supposed to be 29 after he sustained a bullet to the back from a former partner. But to kill drono, you better be packing some heavy artillery, becouse drono doesn't take lightly to those that shoot him in the back. In fact, he insist to shoot you in the face before calling it quits."

Drono was born on the Hannar homeworld. He was the adventerous sort, and was never happy staying put. His parents were both the typical, lowkey, perfectly integrated Drell settlers you'd see spread across the galaxy. Not drono though, to him the call of adventure was to great. He had grown fascinated with the stories of other races fighting one another, and even though he understood war was a terrible thing, his fascination for weapons knew no bounds. He was growing increasinly agitated with the dull existence he led on Kahje. To make matters worse, the opportunity to appease his debt to the Hanar never came. His duty to the Compact was never invoked, mainly because the Hanar considered him to impulsive. The Drell as a race are known to be able to integrate and keeping themselves levelheaded. Sadly, this was not the case of Drono. The young Drell got more agitated, and would start to become bothersome for his parents as well as he took out his frustrations by sneaking out every chance he got. He would talk to offworlders, especially those of a more dodgy reputation.

Drono obsession with adventure had him hop onto a merchant barge going out towards the more distant places of Citadell space. And as so many stories like his goes, he found his adventure in ways he had not imagined. After having drifted around, using his skills as a quick talking and his above average skills with a pistol, he came across the Salarian named Yestin Sozu. Yestin was a Salarian smuggler, who found the quick talking Drell both amusing and usefull. The two would strike up a deal, and later became partners in crime for nearly a decade. The two were small time and generally worked as middle hands in weapon smuggling around the Omega system. The two did butt head more then a little, despite being good friends, and where Yetsin was a shrewd, calculating buisnessman. Drono was a flashy, distracting and disarming face outwards for their little two man operation.

Then one day, the two struck gold. They got their hands on a massive amounts of Element Zero. The deal would set them up for pretty much their entire life. OF course, that is when Yestin decided he did not want to share the payoff. As the two was heading to meet up with the people who was going to make them rich, Yestin pulled a gun at Drono and shot him in the back before kicking him out the ship.

Trough a wicked twist of fate, the Drell mercenary and smuggler didn't die. Yestin had made the mistake to shoot Drono just a street across from a local clinic. They somehow managed to save his life, even though the bullet had lodged itself close to the spine. However, there was complications removing it, and the very spinal fluid of Drono was contaminated by the metal shard embedded in his back. And as it turned out, it was a expensive and constant condition to treat . Drono found himself having to take a shot straight into his spine every few months to keep the pain from becoming crippling. Now running out of money quickly, he has decided to try his hand at something else. Bounty Hunting.

Equipment:
Executioner Heavy pistol:
One would question the need of such a high caliber weapon when you are supposed to be the silent type. Well, drono is not your typical infliltrator. The showy, flashy nature of a gun that gives even Krogans pause, is perfect for drono. Typically, he uses his skills as infliltrator to find a different vantage point or flank before he picks of unfortunate targets with the massive handgun before vanishing again.

Duelist Armor
Flashbang Grenade x 2
Frag Grenade x 2

Powers:
-Pistol Marksman
-Tactical Cloak
-Cryo Ammo
-Sticky Grenade

Font Colour:
Light Blue #5CB3FF

[Hank]

Aran Nykerius AKA Mirage

Name: Aran Nykerius; this name is a well-kept secret and he is only known as Mirage.

Race: Turian.

Sex: Male.

Age: 31.

Class: Operative, extranet pirate, cyberterrorist and hacker. Responsible for monitoring all comms, be it friend's or foe's, and cracking cybersecurity or automated defense systems.

Appearance: Remarkably short for a Turian, Mirage reaches a pitiful 5'7” on a good day. His carapace and eyes are pale white, sporting a faint blue hue when exposed to sunlight – a result of his albinism. Mirage is not only short, he is also frail; he hides his pathetic, decrepit frame beneath scarves and a hooded robe made of black fabric. His most ghastly and eye-popping feature is the angular, black rebreather permanently attached to the lower half of his face, obscuring his mouth and nose. Horrific scarring disfigures his skin where the apparatus was crudely grafted into his jaw. If Mirage's appearance had to be concisely described, 'menacing weakness' would be the chosen words.

This is further amplified by the self-propelled anti-grav force chair Mirage uses to move around in, as he is now too weak to stand or walk around for more than a few minutes at a time. Like everything Mirage owns, it is matte black, except for the faint blue-purple glow of the mass effect field used to levitate the chair a foot above the ground.

Background: Born on Omega in a fiercely unhealthy environment to pathetically poor parents, Aran was heavily disadvanted from his very first breath. Struck by a miasma of genetic disorders, he was doomed to a life of weakness. Albinism made him vulnerable to sunlight, crippling asthma slowly asphyxiated him and a rare Turian defect known as Karthun's syndrome stunted his growth. His mother died giving birth to him and his father was a worthless, drug-addicted gun runner. Aran had one thing going for him, however; he was extraordinarily smart. He grew up in the underbelly of Omega and was always too weak to play and fight with the other juveniles of his neighbourhood, instead spending his time tinkering and reading.

Once he got his hands on a computer, this turned into exploring the extranet; the addition of an Omni-tool, given to him by his father in a rare moment of affection, expanded his capabilities. Aran amused himself by attempting to circumvent cybersecurity and listening in on private comms, skills he learned from other unsavory figures active on Omega's extranet.

Desperate for credits, Aran's father eventually fell in with the Blue Suns. This improved Aran's living conditions a little and they moved to a slightly better neighbourhood, away from the toxic fumes produced by the incessant mining operations on Omega. It came with risks, of course, as the life expectancy of a Blue Suns mercenary wasn't necessarily very high. Aran's father wasn't particularly good at the job and his drug abuse made him unpopular among his fellow mercs. Distracting himself, Aran delved even further into cybercrime, utilizing his fierce intellect and cunning to learn all there was to know. He met various people this way who became his first 'friends' (or something like that, anyway), including a salarian who called himself Twitch and a fellow turian named Astrovor. Together, the three of them were a veritable tech-savvy tag-team and they started using their talents for more nefarious purposes. This is where Aran's first experience with credit theft and information brokering came from.

Aran's life turned upside down forever when his condition worsened dramatically; Aran's asthma was finally killing him. In another one of those rare moments of fatherly responsbility, Aran's father spent all his credits and loaned a lot more to purchase a custom-made rebreather that would filter out every unnecessary compound; he also hired a back-alley surgeon to graft it to Aran's face and to perform bronchiatic surgery. Aran survived – barely – but his father was unable to pay back his loans... and we all know what happens when loan sharks don't get their credits. Twitch and Astrovor pitched in whatever they could but they were still young and their exploits had never managed to be very lucrative.

While Aran was still recovering, his father was shot in the back of the head in a dingy alley. Aran learned of this through his extensive monitoring of the Omegan extranet, with the help of his friends, and figured the Blue Suns would be coming for him next, seeking to repossess the rebreather to recoup some of their losses. A cold fury came over him, the likes of which he had never experienced before, and he vowed to avenge his father. Aran escaped, but not before boobytrapping his apartment with incendiary grenades. Three Blue Suns mercenaries were killed when they kicked down the door and triggered the trap.

Now very much a wanted man, Aran dropped his birthname and adopted the moniker Mirage. He used his tech skills to hack his way into safehouses, eluding the Blue Suns, and siphoned credits away from private accounts to fund his quest for vengeance. Twitch and Astrovor became his eyes and his ears in the field, pledging themselves to Mirage's cause. Over time, Mirage learned the identity of the asari merc who had ordered the hit on his father and turned the tables on her with a squad of Blood Pack hunter-killers. Mirage employed them in return for information about the Blue Suns that Astrovor had tipped him off to, sparking a bigger gang conflict between the two organisations – however, this wasn't enough to draw the heat away from Mirage, and the Blue Suns were determined to see the rogue turian dead. Worst of all, the identity of his father's executioner remained unknown to him.

Fuelled by hatred and blind to the enormous risks he was taking, Mirage went head-to-head with the Blue Suns in a proxy war that mostly took place between hired guns in abandoned warehouses and seedy nightclubs. Twitch and Astrovor slowly distanced themselves further and further from Mirage, afraid of the consequences he could bring on all of them, but Mirage didn't care. He employed the full range of his abilities to obtain credits and information as fast as he could spend it, buying new allies and currying favors with other gangs in an attempt to destabilize the Blue Suns entirely. He became the Blood Pack's informal in-house information broker while simultaneously avoiding his enemies, constantly on the move, operating from the shadows and refusing to meet anyone face-to-face – not even his friends. Orchestrating several ambushes and assassinations, Mirage managed to cripple the Blue Suns' effort to hunt him down and bought himself more time; time he was using to identify his father's killer. He would have his revenge and he would have it personally.

The house of cards came tumbling down when Mirage botched an information sale to the Blood Pack; he had tipped them off to a shipment of Eclipse tech coming into Omega, but the tech-savvy Eclipse operatives had picked up his surveillance and set up an ambush. The whole Blood Pack squad was slaughtered. Now, the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack wanted him dead. Twitch and Astrovor both sent him a final message to let him know they were done with him and Mirage finally recognized defeat. He wiped all of his data, deleted all of his contacts, rigged his latest hideout to blow and attempted to depart Omega.

Unfortunately, Mirage was cut off on his way to the spaceport and, for the very first time in his life, forced to engage in a firefight against a death squad of Blue Suns. The turian was woefully inexperienced with firearms and instead fled, using his contingency plans to detonate digital virus bombs within the comms networks and information relays of the Omega station's gangs. Under cover of his tactical cloak, Mirage figured he was almost out of danger when a contingent of Eclipse mercs and Blood Pack vorchas closed in on his position. With the Blue Suns still hot on his heels, the inevitable happened: the three mercenary companies turned against each other. Hiding, desperate to stay out of sight, Mirage contemplated his options and, at the height of the battle, Mirage took control of an Eclipse YMIR mech. Disrupting the unit's IFF system, it began firing its mass accelerator cannons and rocket launcher without discretion. Mirage fled the scene of the three-way fight and hurried to his escape vessel. He almost made it, too; within a stone's throw distance from the small salarian trader he wanted to steal Mirage was accosted by a Blue Suns merc who ambushed him from the shadows. Shot in the knees and sprawled on the floor, his firearm fallen out of reach, Mirage was defenseless. The expected shot to the back of the head didn't come, however, and Mirage was instead taken prisoner by the Blue Suns.

Over the course of the next few weeks he was gruesomely tortured and interrogated; his data servers might have been wiped but Mirage's brain was still full of secrets about the other gangs active on Omega. His interrogator turned out to be his biggest nemesis; his father's assassin, a drell, who took great delight in tormenting Mirage with descriptions of his father's death. The torments included ripping the rebreather-graft from his face, leaving him to asphyxiate in an extremely painful manner, before crudely stitching and drilling it back on. Repeatedly. While the turian had always possessed an iron will, he broke eventually and spilled all of his secrets, convinced his miserable life would soon finally be at an end.

Mirage's body would never recover from the horrific injuries inflicted on him during this time, already weakened as it was by Karthun's syndrome, and he remains a cripple to this day.

An extraordinary pact between the Blood Pack and the Eclipse mercenaries was forged when they learned of Mirage's captivity; he knew too much about both organizations and had to be recovered or assassinated. The resulting firefight inside the Blue Suns compound was fierce and chaotic, and in this chaos, Twitch and Astrovor managed to infiltrate the base and steal Mirage out from under the gangs' noses.

Unconscious for days, Mirage was smuggled away from Omega to Illium. Twitch and Astrovor plundered Mirage's credit accounts to pay for his life-saving surgery, but what's necessary is necessary. The turian spent months recovering on Illium but it eventually became apparent that he had hit a plateau and would never be his former self; a shadow of a shadow of a turian. Dismayed, Mirage fell into a deep depression and sent his friends away, wanting nothing but to be left alone. He contemplated suicide for a long time but somehow never found the conviction to go through with it.

After more than two years of moping around on Illium like a recluse, surviving off of the meager remains of his credit accounts, Mirage emerged from the dark recesses of his mind, determined to turn his life around. Spending the absolute last of his credits, he purchased an anti-grav force chair powered by a mass effect field, normally used to boost elderly mobility, and started exploring his options. Filled with a burning vigor that took him completely by surprise, Mirage responded to a classified on the extranet looking for specialists to become bounty hunters (or something of that ilk) and found shipment off-world, ready to face the galaxy again.

Equipment:

• Anti-grav force chair powered by a mass effect field; hovers approximately one foot above the ground. Maximum speed is slightly below that of a human in full sprint, but significantly less agile. Operated via Omni-tool link. It's made of a durable alloy and painted matte black.
• 2x Serrice Council Savant Omni-tools. Very prized possessions. One is used to control the force chair and operate nearby machinery while the other keeps constant tabs on local comms and is loaded with decryption programs and the like.
• Standard turian outfit beneath black hooded robes. No armor.
• Custom-made matte black rebreather grafted to Mirage's face. Allows him to breathe without asphyxiating.
• M-3 Predator hidden in the force chair's seat for dire emergencies.

Powers:

• AI Hacking
• Overload
• Tactical Cloak
• Neural Shock
• Energy Drain

Font Colour: Mirage reporting for duty. Achieved by using the code tags.

[DearTrickster]

Dexuret Noratus (Dex)

Name: Dexuret Noratus (Dex)

8track Playlist

Race: Turian

Sex: Female She/Her

Age: 36 Born in 2140 CE.

Class: Infiltrator (Operative). Pilot specialization frigates, cruisers and shuttles.

Appearance: Dex stands at a tall 6’3, a smile not far from stretching her mandibles. Her face is a rather light grey, while her carapace is a dark grey. She proudly has dark green triple spirals tattooed along her mandibles that end just under her eyes. Dark shades of green and spiral patterns for facial tattoos are unique to her home world Taetrus. She has light honey brown eyes, inherited from her father. Her build in muscle is seen mostly within her shoulders and back. Keeping her organic arm strong to match her mechanical one. Scars can also be seen stretching out from underneath the steel. Her mechanical arm has been apart of her for 10 years, her current model is about 3 years old with obvious wear and tear scuff marks show for its age. To match her facial tattoos she has had dark green spirals stencilled from shoulder to wrist. The tendons, as thick wires, can be seen beneath the smooth plating at her joints. With her armour the mechanical arm fits into the sleeve, she decided early on not to weigh it down with its own armour plating.




Background: Dexuret was the 1st born of 4 children. As a child she had a deep interest in theatre art. She dreamt one day after she finished her military duty to join an acting troupe on Palaven. Her parents, Talera Noratus and Hazill Noratus, however had their hopes to push her into a political path. They openly supported separation from the Hierarchy. They constantly pushed for independence within the realm of law. They filled Dex’s head with ideas that freedom is when Taetrus would truly spread it’s wings to fly, they believed they were due for a cultural renaissance. In reality, every year the violent clashes of extremists and the Hierarchy grew more frequent. It gave Dex an idealistic view of the separatists.

At 15 years she was shipped off to the military, typical for Turians. Her outgoing personality won her fast friends while in boot camp. Theatre was still one of her main interests but after stepping onboard a cruiser orbiting the planet; she fell in love with piloting. She no longer saw herself on a billboard for a musical but in the pilot’s seat.

Not the best student, she often passed tests with no problem while having difficulty completing homework. While her incredible eye for detail was an asset recognized early. Her parents still pushed for political studies while Captain Vibitina Indmus encouraged her to study to be a starship pilot. Dex idolized Captain Indmus, a female Turian commanding her own ship and crew.

When the Relay 314 Incident broke across the networks in 2157 CE Dex was immediately terrified she would be drafted in the fighting. Thankfully, due to her age she was spared. The incident only lasted a few months, though rumours spread like wildfire about the new race referred to as humanity.

At 19 she joined Captain Indmus’s crew on the ISS Fade slowly earning her way to the cockpit. Dex soaked up every aspect of serving on the ISS Fade, from navigation to communications she loved it.

Her training progressed well, she moved onto serving under different captains from frigates to cruisers. Each vessel had her work the co-pilot spot or navigation. With each transfer she came closer and closer to being the main pilot. At 24 her future seemed bright, her parents were proud of her and her siblings looked up to her.

While she had returned to serve on the ISS Fade, Captain Indmus was forced to guide the ship out of FTL to avoid some space debris. It was a trap that lured them into a pirate’s net. The pirates boarded the ship maiming every crewmember in their way. Dex was caught off guard to the attack then took a shotgun shot at point blank range to her shoulder. Struggling to reach a terminal she sent out a distress signal in hopes she’d at least live to see another day. Passing out she woke to Taetrus extremists patching her up attaching a prosthetic arm to her shoulder. The extremists were the closest available and dispatched the pirates.

Dex had recognized some of the extremists, they were neighbours and key members of the community. Unlike her parents, these separatists used blunt action and violence to achieve their ends. Dex didn’t view them as extremists just people willing to do everything in their power to achieve freedom.

The medic patching her up was named Jorick Demanga. He was an ex-military medic at the age of 30. Making him, at the time, about 6 years older than Dex. While he was an accomplished medic he continued his studies, with hopes to specialize in prosthetic engineering. Jorick promised Dex he’d see her through her painful year of rehabilitation. He had kind green eyes and gentle hands. His dark green spirals were centered above his forehead down to his chin.

Feeling indebted to the extremists she offered to do anything to repay them. At first they only asked for her to pass on some information regarding another Captain. It simply snowballed from there, the more Dex provided the more they needed. She became exceptionally good at spying. She learned how to bypass wall safes, plant evidence, sabotage mechs, etc. Most importantly she learned how to cover her tracks. She felt she was contributing to a noble cause.

Her main contact from the extremists was Jorick. They used her arm maintenance as cover for when she had information to pass on. He had opened a clinic on Palaven, making it a rather easy neutral spot away from prying eyes. Despite the circumstance Jorick and Dex had become close friends. Dex trusted him with her work and arm. He used experimental techniques with Dex as his skills improved with prosthetic engineering. His experimenting resulted in some interesting iterations of her arm. He was the first to suggest installing a blowtorch in one of her talons.

5 years passed while Dex continued to work within the Hierarchy. The government officials stationed on Taetrus were aware of a mole but hadn’t a single clue who it could be. They investigated any personnel who had connections to the separatists. Fortunately for Dex, after heavy scrutiny, her story checked out.

Their only lead was an extremist leader they blackmailed into their interrogation chair. His name was Arian Medus. He was short for a Turian, sported the dark green spirals of his planet. His dark blue eyes seemed steady and sure, his reputation preceded him to be an excellent leader. The government offered him a full pardon with a cushiony life on Palaven in exchange for the information he had on the extremist operations. After hours of interrogation he cracked, he gave them a short list of names of spies working within the Hierarchy, one of them being Dex.

She was immediately arrested being charged with a laundry list of crimes she committed, she was looking at life behind bars. She pleaded the extremists for help. They turned their back on her, publicly declining any involvement. Her family was unable to afford a retaining fee for a good lawyer; they had their hands tied.

Jorick desperate to save his friend from jail tried paying off an information broker that the extremists had used a few times. His name was Galentos Lorthan, rising in influence on Palaven the past few years garnering his clientele from separatists across handfuls of colonies. Gal had some dirt on the judges for Dex’s trial but refused credits. Much to Jorick’s confusion, Gal instead wanted Dex to work for him. Jorick agreed to his terms on her behalf knowing she would prefer freedom to imprisonment.

Within days the trial was misconducted while the judges cleared all her charges, Dex was free to go. As soon as she stepped out Gal introduced himself. He was a rather handsome Turian, his light yellow eyes were striking against his dark almost blue face and deep grey carapace. He stood just a little taller than Dex. He made a point that as impractical as it is to reveal himself, it proved to be an effective way to gain trust of his employees. Dex immediately suspected what may have happened. Gal hailed a taxi then discussed the proposition for her employment.

Again without any real options for her to choose from she decided to work for Gal. Her career in the military had gone up in smoke and staying planetside would only paint a target on her family’s back. She reluctantly agreed on the condition, in her off time, she was free to ruin Arian. Gal just warned her to cover her tracks. They shook hands sealing the deal.

The next 6 years Dex continued spying. She served on ships from civilian vessels to military. Sold out cheating spouses, dusted cobwebs from skeletons, watched from binoculars and sniper scopes. It was rare to find someone with a clean conscious. Her work took her to homeworlds and colonies alike. As Gal’s influence spread from Palaven to the Terminus Systems the workload and pay increased. She didn’t find herself fighting very often but the odd time a target she spied on would chase her out with mercs.

Every chance she got she gunned after Arian's life. Strips of his life were torn down from every side, he didn't have single shred of evidence to save him from the onslaught. Dex took immense satisfaction from her patient revenge. She was ruthless in tearing apart his family life, his business, and his reputation. Utterly destroying his life without having to lay a single finger on him.

Her pay was good; she was able to afford an array of decent equipment, including upgrades for her arm that Jorick helped to outfit her with. She hopped from safehouse to safehouse depending where the job took her. Gal grew fond and close to Dex over the years. She wasn't one to trust easily, naturally it did take time for her to trust Gal. He was eager to keep her happy despite having paid off her debt ten times over. While for Dex, he made it difficult to distinguish the lines of boss and lover.

After years of work she rendered Arian to his knees. He was on the street with millions of credits in debt. Without any support to see a roof over his head he became desperate. Hours before Dex intended to reveal herself, Arian shot himself. He escaped the world of misery Dex built for him. She found his corpse in the shadows of an alley on Palaven. Dex had seen her fair share of death and violence, it didn’t shock her to see the aftermath of an apparent suicide it only angered her.

Years of pent up rage poured out of her in that moment. She screeched in rage, since the day she was betrayed she dreamed of when she could sneer at the broken man. Dex only wanted to satisfy her revenge against Arian’s betrayal, he ruined it all by killing himself.

Dex washed her hands of the work, immediately contacting Gal to quit. She had enough of the espionage, the life of a spy no longer held any real meaning. Gal didn’t argue nor did he object. He simply offered she would always be welcomed back to the fold. He ended the transmission with genuine sentiment.

Dex wandered the Terminus Systems completely aimless for a few months. In her moments of weakness she was tempted to go back to Gal to work for him. She missed the pay and orgasms.

A classified ad pulled her attention away from her glum state. It seemed far below the bar she was used to. An ancient ship, a crew of strangers, shitty pay. A semi-known smuggler looking to cash in on the bounty available after the Skyllian Blitz. Without any better ideas she applied for the pilot’s seat.

Equipment:
Elkoss Combine M-27 Scimitar
*Smart Choke modification
Roskenov Materials M-97 Viper
*Extended Barrel
Elanus Risk Control M-3 Predator
*Power magnification

Spare parts from Armax Arsenal L Predator armour
Elkoss Combine L Assassin armour
*With some modification to adjust her prosthetic.

Armali Council Nexus Omni-Tool
*Utilizes all main functions with modification to omni-blade being in the shape of a fist. Purely aesthetic modification.

Prosthetic Arm
*Outfitted with taser knuckles, small blow torch in her talon, and secret snack compartment.

Powers:
Disruptor ammo
Sabotage (highly skilled)
Incinerate
Tactical Cloak (Lowly skilled)
Tactical Scan

Notable Notes: Dex is a highly skilled spy with experience in basic hacking and infiltration. It is worth noting despite her skill set mainly in tech she's a shit mechanic. Her ability to repair hardly reaches outside basic maintenance. She understands theory of how mechs, ships and weapons work but isn’t skilled enough to fix more complicated problems. She is, however, rather good at destroying it beyond redemption. Hence having high skill in sabotage. The tactical cloak has always been on the buggy side for Dex, unable to fix it herself she ignores it hoping it will fix itself. Her first love will always be for piloting her experience in a variety of military vessels and civilian makes her an invaluable pair of hands.

Font Colour: Darkgreen 007236

[Sundered Echo]

Kasyra

Name: Kasyra’Tala Vas Ryushei Nar Sherana

Race: Quarian

Sex: Female

Age: 31

Class: Engineer

Appearance:

Kasyra, like all Quarians is confined to an environment suit almost all the time. She favours white clothing over her suit with thin pale blue bolts of cloth to accentuate where appropriate. The white cloth also has a swirling pattern that shows up in a silvery finish when caught in the right light.
Her eyes are luminous like any Quarians, and her well formed nose and brow can be seen behind her mask as well. She stands unusually tall for a Quarian woman at 5'6 and looks slightly too thin for it.
The ‘hair’ extended from the back of her helmet is made up of luminescent synthetic strands that Kasyra claims resemble Quarian hair. They normally glow a constant blue, but she is capable of turning this glow off, making them go black.

Background:
Kasyra’Tala Nar Sherana was born on (year pending) aboard the original Quarian cruiser Sherana, a warship in a prominent position in the Heavy fleet. Daughter of the Captain and Chief Engineer, Kasyra’s early years were, relatively speaking, very lonely. Her parents did their best to make time for her, but they were both exceedingly busy individuals and could not spend as much time with her as they liked. On the other hand, the other children were afraid of her precisely because of the high rank of her parents, and so she had few friends among her peers while growing up. In addition, as a Heavy fleet ship, the Sherana’s crew were constantly training for and carrying out battle drills, further reducing time for her to engage in social activity of any sort.

As a result of these factors, Kasyra focused the majority of her time on academic and practical studies. In particular, she learned to handle all manner of firearms typically used onboard Quarian ships, as well as close quarters combat tactics and even melee techniques. All this in addition to the typical Quarian skills - basic operations of every station on the ship and basic maintenance and repair of every kind of technology available to the ship.

At age 18, she began her pilgrimage. Fitted with cybernetic immuno booster, given armor upgrades to her suit and a Stiletto III pistol, she was sent out into the universe. Given her position as the daughter of a ship's Captain, she was expected to bring back something of greater value than most. She quickly decided that she would attempt to acquire nothing less than full sized starship for the fleet. In order to do so, she made sure she was dropped at the Citadel to begin her journey, as difficult and unpleasant as that was.

Unfortunately, she quickly realised how difficult this goal would be. She also found out within the first few days that she was not up to the standard expected by non-Quarians in the technical fields, making it quite difficult to find a legitimate job. And so she decided to put her combative skills to use. A little research led her to one of the seemingly more honorable Mercenary groups - the Blue Suns. They didn’t usually favor Quarians, but that was more down to few Quarians being interested in joining Merc groups than a particular stigma.

Or so she thought.

On her third day on the Citadel, she had set a meeting with the local Blue Suns group. Naively, she had allowed them to set the location - an alleyway in Tayseri ward. Only moments after arriving, she found herself being stunned into unconsciousness by one of the Blue Suns. When she came to, she found herself slung over the shoulder of a Batarian engineer. She had been disarmed, her Omnitool shut down. She acted quickly, covering and poking at the Batarians eyes with one hand while reaching down to his pistol with the other. He quickly threw her to the floor, but not before she had taken hold of his weapon. Springing to her feet, she shot him in the gut at point blank range multiple times, heedless of the rest of the squad around her.

Rather than immediately shoot her for this, however, the Blue Suns captain, a Turian, intervened, ordering his men to cease fire. He decreed that she would fulfill the contract of the man she had just murdered as recompense for her actions. Grudgingly, she agreed, having no other way out. She was given the man's Omni tool and weapons, and so began her time as a Blue Suns mercenary.

Kasyra learned to survive in the Blue Suns organisation very quickly, quickly realising that among the merc groups, honor was relative. Initially she fought as a dedicated combat engineer, making use of the Cryo Blast and Snap Freeze programs that had already been installed on the Omni tool she was given, however she quickly began to add to her battlegear as the pay started to roll in. As valuable as she became to her squad however, she was never truly treated well. Many a fellow merc had to be taught not to eye up her curves via a swift beating. New squad members found out the hard way she was not weak or fragile. At best she was typically feared by her squad mates, gaining a reputation as a cold hearted killer more interested in finishing the job than keeping her squadmates alive. In truth, she was never bothered by this however. As much as she had gotten what she wanted, she had been exposed to some of the worst trickery employed by the scum of the galaxy in the process. She did not forget, nor did she forgive.

Near the end of her fourth year in the Blue Suns, an opportunity for her to take vengeance on her captors-come employers came about. The ship her Blue Suns team was operating out of came under attack from a hostile Blood Pack vessel. The Blood Pack closed to carry out a boarding action, and a brutal close quarters fight ensued. By the end of it, the two dozen strong team had been reduced to four - two seriously injured, Kasyra and the Captain, the very Captain who had spared her while condemning her to a life as a merc.

First she triggered an overdose of Medi-gel on the two injured members in the Med bay. Then, humming the sing song tune of the phrase that would bring her back to the Migrant fleet, she entered the Bridge. A point blank Cryo blast into the captain's back immobilised him long enough for him to realise what was happening before Kasyra slid an omni blade into his skull.

She then proceeded to throw all the bodies, including the comatose survivors, out the airlock before cleaning up the ship. She funneled all the crews credits to a new account of her own, leaving the rest of the ship’s supplies onboard for later. With the evidence of how she acquired the ship erased, she set course back to the migrant fleet.

She was hailed as a hero on returning to the fleet, her gift of a solid, combat effective ship exceeding expectations by no small amount. Given a choice of serving aboard any ship in the fleet, she chose the Ryushei, an old Batarian heavy cruiser now in service with the Heavy fleet. She thought perhaps that things would change now, that it would all go back to normal.

Yet old habits die hard. Never the most social Quarian to begin with, her time among the Blue Suns had left her cold and isolated, unwilling to function as a tight-knit group. Despite her efforts, she could not shake these habits so easily. She integrated poorly with the crew of the Ryushei, and refused to speak of her experience on the Pilgrimage, making it difficult for the crew to help her overcome these problems.

Her martial skills were no secret however, and they had only improved with her time away. Rather than allow her to continue impacting the morale of the ship negatively, the Captain decided to assign her to the ship's detachment of Migrant marines. She quickly proved herself among the most effective soldiers the fleet had to offer, and within six months of assignment, she found herself drafted into a special operations unit.

Two scouting missions near the Veil went without incident, but a third ran into disaster. Her squad was discovered by a Geth patrol ship and was forced into a fighting retreat. She was injured during the battle, but her actions cost the lives of two of her fellow Quarians. The return to the fleet was not a triumphant one. After action reports found fault primarily in Kasyra for the loss of life. She was deemed more of a risk than she was worth for any squad she could be assigned to. Returning to the Ryushei, she found herself assigned to one of its small long range scout ships, this one directed well and truly away from the Veil.

It took time for her to integrate with the four other crew, but realising that the only other option was to leave the fleet, she made the extra effort. In time, she finally found a place to belong aboard the scout ship. Eight years passed, and Kasyra was happy.

Yet the Blue Suns do not forget, and they do not forgive. A squad sent by the brother of the Blue Suns captain she had killed tracked down the scout ship, finding it while it was landed on a world near Omega. Four of the crew, including Kasyra, were away from the ship when they arrived. They forced entry and killed the pilot in short order, setting up an ambush for the rest of crew. The first salvo of bullets and tech blasts cut down two of the remaining Quarians and injured the third. Only by chance did Kasyra avoid any more than grazing strikes to her shield.

As she went to cover, her return fire caught the Turian member of the squad unawares, bringing him down. The two human members of the squad quickly broke cover and moved towards her, but they were not prepared for the extent of her tech attacks, and died screaming in a hail of ice, fire and sparks. She decided to chance it then, boosting her shields as much as she could while rushing the remaining Batarian squad member, Omni blade active. Caught off guard by her sudden ferocious attack, he too went down, his eyes slashed by the red hot blade before she finished him.

The injured member of the scout ships crew died in her arms a few minutes later, her wounds too severe for treatment.

In a mere few minutes, Kasyra’s life had been brutally ripped away from her. She went mad with grief and rage at the loss, vowing to enact vengeance upon the Blue Suns for the ruination they brought to her life as a whole. she realised that for all her knowledge, one woman alone would not be able to fight the Suns. Instead she decided to join a freelance merc team, use her skills to generate more money and perhaps hire a team of her own to strike at the Blue Suns effectively.

She took the scout ship to rendezvous with one Captain Jerrel Luzami before sending it back to the migrant fleet on autopilot, the bodies of her former crew mates aboard. A short explanation of her past and what had happened accompanied, as well as a statement of her intentions for the Admirals to judge as they would. It mattered little to her now what her people thought of her. Revenge consumed her mind, and this job was the first step on the long path that would see her freed of her past. Or more likely dead.

Equipment:
Kassa Fabrication M-6 Carnifex - Melee Stunner Attachment, Piercing Mod.
Aldrin Labs BlueWire III Omni Tool (Right arm. Equipped with standard Omni Blade)
Armali Council Nexus VII Omni Tool (Left arm. Equipped with Cryo Omni Blade)
Devlon Industries Survivor Armor, appearance heavily modified to her taste.

Powers:
Cryo Blast
Snap Freeze
Overload
Shield Boost (the self only version)
Disruptor Ammo

Skills worth noting:
Kasyra is a skilled melee combatant, both with Omni blades and unarmed fighting. Without the mass or strength to overpower foes, she relies on redirecting an enemy's strength and striking vulnerabilities.
Dextro Chef - Kasyra despises typical Quarian nutrient paste. She learned the art of Turian cuisine during her time with the Blue Suns, and has continued practicing whenever she can. She has yet to meet a merc capable of matching her Dextro cooking.

Relations:
Kasyra has briefly met Vellios, while she was serving with the Blue Suns.

Font Colour: DarkViolet 9400D3

[Bright_Ops]

Duuka

Name: Duuka

Race: Vorcha

Sex:Male

Age: Five.

Class: Solder, Security Officer/Marine.

Appearance:

Slightly smaller then the average Vorcha, Duuka seems to lack much of the bodily 'improvements' that come from the vorcha's biology, suggesting that he was born somewhere that is much less hostile than Heshtok. While his skin is a pale white, Duuka is really seen without a blue and purple kind of war paint on his face, done up in a poor pattern of some kind; Those with the eye for it might recognize it as a pattern and color scheme akin to something that the quarians use for their suits, through poorly done. His eyes are a deep red color.

Background:
Born in a dark corner of the space station of Omega, Duuka was just one of many young mouths that needed to be fed in an environment that didn't provide food to do so. Despite being newly born, he fought with his newly born siblings over what scraps that was available, giving as good as he got and avoiding a painful death at the teeth of those that would remove some of the computation while making more food to go around at the same time.

He had been big and strong enough to walk (IE: A toddler) when the vorcha hunters swept through their corner of Omega to thin out their numbers; Duuka himself bolted from his attackers rather then trying to put up a fight, surviving his siblings and mother who had either believed that they could charge the solders with weapons or were simply less lucky when it came to running away.

Duuka would have no doubt died on his own if it wasn't for a quarian girl on pilgrimage that Duuka would call 'Si', due to being unable to pronounce the rest of her name when he was younger and turning it into a pet name for her once he could. Si had been rather down on her luck as far as her pilgrimage had been going, but seeing the young vorcha on his own having just escaped what was quite clearly a hunting party caused her to take pity on the small child and take him in to try and look after him.

While life was still hard for the both of them, for Duuka his time with Si was broader line heaven; He was under the care of someone who actually cared about his well being and he didn't have to fight with his siblings for scraps of food. Si even taught him how to read! During the night cycles, Si would tell him tales of her homeship and about what it meant to be a quarian.

As the years passed and Duuka grew big and strong enough to look after himself, he talked to his adoptive mother about going out on his own to find a job to help her continue her pilgrimage after taking so many years off of it to look after him; A pilgrimage of his own as he called it. As a gift to aid him on his pilgrimage, Si managed to give Duuka a Terminator I assault rifle; It was somewhat old and used, but the Batarian made assault rifle was still an impressive gift that Si refused to tell Duuka how she managed to get.

With a promise to remain in touch, Duuka went out into the galaxy with a wanted ad for a new bounty hunting group that was a forming in mind. He was going to do his best to make Si proud... Unfortunately this required him to get off station but this wasn't as difficult as it might have been for some; With Si's help, he found a ship that was heading for Ilium and slipped on-board via the cargo bay when no one was looking.

The food rations that he took with him for the trip didn't last the whole way despite his attempts to ration it out, but having grown up on Omega he was used to going periods of time without a lot of food. Arriving at Ilium was an...interesting experience. Open sky and natural sunlight were new and somewhat painful things to encounter for the first time; The first time his eyes encountered daylight it felt as if they would burn out of their sockets. Still, he was a vorcha who had been adopted by a quarian and thus could adept and endure anything.

Now all he had to do was find the meeting sight at the right time...

Equipment:
Terminator I Assault Rifle.
Junk 'Armor' (It's not so much armor as it is random junk clothing that covers his modesty and allows him to move freely).

Powers:
-Concussive Shot
-Cryo Ammo
-Disruptor Ammo
-Incendiary Ammo

Font Colour:
Orange.

[Heat]

Valiss T'daios

Name: Valiss T'daios

Race: Asari

Sex: Mono-gendered

Age: 188

Class: Adept

Appearance:



Valiss stands 5'10, her figure in shape and athletic from years of intense training. Her most notable features are the markings above her blue eyes. For apparel in casual settings she wears a comfortable jumpsuit, otherwise she's in her armor.

Background:
Valiss was born on the Asari homeworld of Thessia, her mother a nurse and her father a veteran Turian military man. Valiss was an only child of the couple. She couldn't have asked for a better planet to be born on than Thessia, the crown jewel of Asari space, low on crime, disease and many of the problems other planets faced. Her parents were polar opposites in their parenting styles, her mother kind and carefree, but her turian father disciplined and highly honorable.

Her father pushed her towards joining the Asari military, her mother supporting her with whatever she wanted to do. She went in to the military shortly after reaching adulthood, a few weeks after he father passed away. His death was what ultimatly pushed her in, when she was very young he had often entertained her with tales of his life as a soldier, the glory and unity that it brought him. She hoped to one day tell her child tales of her own military service. Life in the military was one as a full time professional, from the moment she joined her education turned to readying her in every way for life as an Asari commando.

Her training was intense and long by other species standards, decades of strenuous activity and mind sharpening exercises. Martial arts were a key aspect for an Asari huntress, even if she was fighting a larger opponent at close quarters, her knowledge of martial arts would allow her to seize the fight. Her biotics were also focused on, her entire race was capable of biotic powers, but a key component of the commando's combat style was harnessing such powers.

Asari had not fought a major war for decades and as such commandos were not traditionally taught conventional warfare, instead guerrila warfare was the focus. Valiss was partnered with another Asari, Lisal Jatari, Lisal would become one of her closest friends, though their relationship had a hint of rivalry to it. Lisal was a few years older than Valiss, with more experience as a commando. As such she acted as a mentor to the younger Valiss. They would undertake several special operations together, their main targets the vices of the galaxy, slavers, gangsters, war criminals. Assassinations of targets were not out of the norm, nor were strategic ambushes, they were the expected way to fight.

Lisal and Valiss had become a potent team, then more current events started to occur, and Valiss' life changed. The two were sent on a covert mission to Omega, the task to assassinate a Krogan crimelord Vrumar Kurd. Kurd had a list of atrocities he had committed, murders, torture and most notoriously, dealing of slaves. While he was stationed in Terminus Space, an area which the Asari government typically avoided, Kurd had been very known to kidnap young Asari, he even had his agents venture to Asari worlds to take their people. He was deemed as a high level target, also a high risk one. The commando duo went in carefully, undercover at first, they managed to track down Kurd to a warehouse on the station.

The two planned an ambush, for days they staked out of the area, Kurd had an array of paid guards watching his back. They waited for the perfect moment to strike, then did so, bombarding the guards with a barrage of biotics and weapon fire. It was a spectacular move, catching their enemies completely off guard. The Asari tore through Kurd's hired help and bashed their way into his warehouse where the krogan had taken cover inside. Then it all went wrong as they entered a room, both of them took fire from above, Kurd had placed more of his hired guns inside and lead the Asari into an ambush.

Under heavy fire, Lisal noticed a fuel tank on the other side of the room. Despite Valiss' warnings, Lisal shot a barrage of bullets into it, igniting the tank. Kurd was killed in the blast, but so were a dozen slaves he had hidden in a nearby room. The innocents never stood a chance as the ignited fuel burnt them alive. The mission was completed, but at a terrible cost, they were supposed to rescue the enslaved, instead they had killed them.

The two faced consequences for it, unexpectedly Lisal had turned her back on her partner, framing the reckless Valiss as the perpetrator. The two Asari at that point had been equals on the combat field, but Lisal had been a commando for longer, her word stood stronger. They believed her, and Valiss was dishonorably removed from military service. Lisal was also punished, though she was not discharged, a fact which greatly angered Valiss. She did not face criminal charges, but the discharge was more than enough. Valiss pledged she would get back at Lisal, for the next couple of years she took up freelance mercenary work in the Terminus systems.

She received an offer and took it. Hoping that the work it would provide her would be enough to help her forget some of her past.

Equipment:
- Aldrin Labs Light Hydra Armor
- Elanus Risk Control Services M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle
- Elanus Risk Control Services M-9 Tempest
- Elanus Risk Control Services M-3 Predator

Powers:
- Warp
- Pull
- Throw
- Singularity
- Shockwave

Font Colour: Magenta #FF00FF

[Zombiedude101]

Name: Iosif Shevchenko (Pronounced Joosif Shevchenko), (Alias: Lyosha)

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Class: Engineer, Pilot and part-time Navigator.

Appearance:



Standing a a rough height of about 5'11, Iosif possesses something of a wiry frame that's been honed by years of training and experience in the field, but is otherwise of an average physical complexion. Due in part to his having ventured out into the galaxy on his travels, his skin tone appears to have taken on a darker complexion than most slavs. Accompanying this are numerous faded scars of varying severity running across his torso, whilst across his back is a criss-cross of faded lacerations which resemble wounds caused by flogging. On the back of his neck is a faded barcode tattooed into the skin with several Batarian numerals and letters etched into the skin beside it. That aside, Iosif's left arm is clearly alien to the rest of his body: from the shoulder-down it appears that his arm is a cybernetic replacement, complemented with a synthetic white coating. Elsewhere, Iosif's pale blue eyes and the pronounced features of his face do well to point out his slavic heritage, with brunette-colored hair that's kept short with a crew cut whilst his jawline seldom develops anything more than a hazy stubble.

Background:

Backstory

Born in 2145, Iosif was the first-born son in a primarily academic family unit: his father was an R&D Technician who originally hailed from the Russian Federation before his assignment whilst his mother had spent her entire life on the red planet and had been a colleague of her future husband. A mere three years after his birth, the unearthing of a series of alien ruins and the subsequent wealth of research and technology which followed gave the family a dedicated assignment early on in life at Lowell City in Mars, which led to Iosif spending his childhood years within the confines of a residential facility for the families of the R&D staff with the frequently iterated expectation that one day he would follow both parents into a similar field.

This however only served to alienate Iosif from the pursuit of such a path and whenever he found the opportunity to spend time outside of the residential facility, he often visited the hangar bays and public sectors where cargo and transport shuttles most frequently landed and departed, as this granted him the opportunity to speak with the shuttle crews and the passengers aboard and learn more of the human dominion, taking interest in the idea of leaving the Solar System for other worlds via the newly discovered mass relays and FTL-technology. This interest piqued even further when humanity made first contact with alien life during the brief First Contact War before going on to be introduced to the greater galactic community. Drawn in by the appeal of seeing the wider universe, Iosif resolved to join the Systems Alliance Navy as a pilot when he was of age.

Naturally, his parents had already reserved a number of slots at various respectable educational institutions and with the influence of both mother and father he’d been all-but slated to attend, yet on his eighteenth birthday he ultimately followed through with his earlier resolve and announced his attentions to join the Systems Alliance, much to the chagrin of both parents. To them it was a mere phase, an immature notion generated by media depictions of exploring new worlds and performing epic feats of heroism, yet Iosif continued to stick to his guns until one final confrontation led to the two officially disowning their son rather than allow him to ‘throw their long-term investments away’.

Taking the first shuttle that he could to the Moon, Iosif enlisted at the recruitment center on Armstrong Outpost and began his pilot training over the course of the next two years. Unlike most, Iosif had aspired to pilot smaller craft such as the shuttles he often saw entering and departing from the hangars back on Mars, or gunships that were being used to patrol the newer colonies that humanity had established outside the Solar System. Once he’d completed his training, he was assigned to the 21st Airborne Division and soon saw deployment.

It was here that his training would pay off as Iosif manouvered his way through AA-vulnerable locations to ferry marines to-and-from their destinations whilst other operations saw him taking the reigns of the recently introduced A-61 Mantis Gunship.These next few years saw him develop his talent as a pilot, yet at the same time also saw him become slightly disillusioned with the Systems Alliance, if only for the fact that most of their resources were being thrown towards a few pirates and warlords, until it finally came to a head in late 2170.

During a routine patrol of one of the Alliance’s colonies in the Attican Traverse, Iosif’s gunship suffered catastrophic engine damage after a kinetic impact from an insurgent’s weapon and the subsequent crash-landing resulted in his left arm being pinned beneath the gunship’s mangled chassis, forcing him to undergo an amputation and later have the arm replaced with a prosthetic. Disillusioned with the idea of chasing after warlords, pirates and the occasional terrorist, Iosif took his medical discharge from the 21st Airborne without argument and opted to find a new occupation that met his own terms.

Recalling that his family had disowned him and otherwise unwilling to admit defeat, Iosif took to running private jobs to keep himself afloat, primarily hiring out to low-profile mercenary crews and PMC’s that weren’t particularly noticeable to the public eye.

Eventually, he crossed paths with and soon struck up a partnership with two fellow freelancers: Jedrah, a salarian infiltrator who’d deserted from military service in favour of the better-paying contracts found with freelance work and Rael’Dorvah nar Selai, a quarian who’d been exiled from the migrant fleet after causing the accidental deaths of six crew members whilst testing a hacking module which exposed part of the ship to an open vacuum. Together, the three made an unlikely extraction crew; Rael would be the one to head into the field, using his tech skills to hack his way through any obstacles and reach whatever goal they required, whilst Jedrah would provide covering fire from a distance. Meanwhile, Iosif would drop off and evac the two whilst also providing additional cover and fire support from a gunship when needed, making the crew ideal for clients who sought to acquire information or items of value from locations which were locked down tight. Iosif even began to regard the two with an odd sort of friendship, somewhat amused by the salarian’s matter-of-fact approach whilst growing fond of the quarian’s boastful rants and lectures of his supposed technical prowess.

Yet, during one contract in which a dossier containing blackmail material on a Citadel official was extracted, Rael also happened upon another dossier with an extensive amount of encryption barring unauthorised access. To a quarian, this was a challenge for sure but not impossible, so after a few days’ worth of extensive work he’d managed to expose the files with the majority of the information still intact. When the crew examined the files in question, they discovered a damning amount of evidence that would incriminate a number of private contractors - including several executives within a major corporation, with various connections to mercenary groups, criminal operations and the mysterious deaths of several people considered to be whistleblowers within the company.

Considering the implications of such information falling into the right hands, the three decided to sell it on to the Shadow Broker’s agents in exchange for payment which would have easily given each of them cause to take a long vacation from contract work. Jedrah established a meeting point and the two agreed upon it unanimously. However, treachery is often known to be a common practise in the freelance world: the date the transfer was due to occur, Iosif arrived at the meeting point only to find the quarian dead from a well-placed shot through the visor and suddenly felt the presence of another individual in the form of a gun placed against the back of his head.

In Jedrah’s own words, the betrayal was ‘nothing personal, a matter of simple business’ and that a third-party had made him a better offer. Whilst most would’ve faced a cruel, if quick death at this point, the salarian added insult to injury by stating that ‘out of respect’ for their previous business partnership, he had made an ‘arrangement’ for Iosif to live in a manner that he would profit from: enslavement, something he quickly realised after being marched at gunpoint into a waiting shuttle loaded with members from a known batarian slaving ring, some of whom Iosif had recognised from very brief encounters during his previous contracts.

In short time, the slavers shipped him off to Aratoht to endure back-breaking labour in the colony’s extensive mines. The experience left him somewhat traumatised, due in part to the inhuman treatment and beatings that he often suffered at the hands of the batarian ‘masters’. Yet something drove Iosif to press on, a desire for vengeance or perhaps to spite the salarian who had betrayed him through escape. Over the course of several months, he learned the routine of the overseers and guards who kept the mines operational and whenever he was assigned work at surface-level near the shuttles, he took every available opportunity to note down when the shuttles arrived and departed and for how long they were left unoccupied. At best, it left him little time for resting between shifts and at worst earned him a rough beating at the hands of whichever guard had caught him 'slacking off'.

Eventually he figured out a blind spot where a certain overseer often stopped to slack off between shifts and drink, and so he took advantage of the batarian's laxed attitude towards work and used a handheld mining excavator to bash the slave driver's skull in. With that out of the way, Iosif quickly removed the overseer's ID chip and used the excavator to bury the corpse beneath a pile of debris, absolving himself of any blame in the case that it were discovered - the batarians would simply dismiss it as a cave-in. However, this was only the first phase of Iosif's plan. Now that he possessed the overseer's ID chip he could unlock access to the armory, though not for himself. Instead, he left a small rumour that one of the guards had 'accidentally' left the armory unlocked whilst drunk, and within a few hours about half of the slaves in that sector had taken up arms.

In the resulting confusion that followed as the batarians rushed to quell the revolt, Iosif used the same ID chip to access a maintenance closet and after retrieving a rebreather for the journey ahead, he climbed up into one of the maintenance ducts and began to follow the route he'd mapped out in his head over the previous months. A short while later he managed to reach the surface, noticing that only half of the usual guard had been placed on watch whilst the rest had been dispatched to handle the situation in the nearby mining sector. Of course, there was a shuttle available and practically waiting, an unoccupied slave transport which conveniently fitted the ID of the overseer he'd stolen the chip from, and after spying a gap in the guards' watch he quickly bolted for the shuttle and climbed aboard.

After that, starting the shuttle was fairly simple - the ID chip got him through the automated security system and within a few minutes he'd dragged the vessel up into high orbit, too late for the batarians to do anything planetside, though it soon caught the attention of the other batarians vessels stationed around the system. Without hesitation or any regard for how much remained of the fuel reserves onboard, Iosif slammed the shuttle into FTL and bolted for the system's relay. Before the batarians could cut him off, he'd managed to cross reach the relay and quickly jumped over towards the other one outside of the system, placing himself outside the reach of his assailants and giving himself a freedom he'd been deprived of for almost a year.

All in all, the incident left him with an open grudge against batarians and the practice of slavery that would never truly heal, whilst his former partner’s treachery had left him with a muted distrust for salarians that he found difficult to subside, and so with little other option remaining he made a return to freelance work, only to find the market had changed in his absence, with many formerly prominent contractors losing business in the wake of the Blitz.

Remembering his would-be partner's betrayal, Iosif grew determined in his resolve to act against the salarian even though he'd since disappeared on Illium. Paying close attention to the news and word-of-mouth throughout the freelance networks, it didn’t take long before Iosif saw a potential opportunity to enact his revenge and make a comeback at the same time. Pooling together the credits that hadn’t been scrubbed from his offworld accounts during his absence, he re-equipped himself and grabbed a shuttle to the nearest spot.

Weapon List WIP

Elkoss Combine M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle
M-6 Carnifex Heavy Pistol
Modified Elanus Risk Control Services M-3 Predator - the weapon has been trimmed down into a compact form, sacrificing performance so it can be concealed
Mark 14 HE Grenades
Equipment List

Elkoss Combine Cipher Omni-Tool
Handheld Welding Tool (This also doubles as a crude weapon when used in close quarters)
Elanus Risk Control Services Light Guardian Armor


Powers:

Power List

Overload
Incinerate
Cryo Blast
Tech Armor
Disruptor Ammo
Fortification

Talents:

Fitness
Electronics
Damping
Assault Rifle Training
Pistol Training
First Aid

[Mortarion]

Khosin Grathe Sedgoroh

Name: Khosin Grathe Sedgoroh

Nickname: Hunter

Race: Batarian

Sex: Male

Age: 33

Class: Sentinel (Focus on Engineering training over Biotics), Engine Maintenance

Appearance: Khosin stands at 6'2 in height and weights 205 pounds, outside of his armor he doesn't stands much as a Batarian. His body has more than it's fair share of scars, although most are hidden behind his armor or whatever piece of cloth he is wearing at the moment. Apart from this, he looks mostly like the average Batarian, with his skin being that of a light brown color.

Outside of this the most noteworthy feature is a rather faded tattoo of the Blue Sun's symbol on his neck, and although the image is mostly faded it is obvious that the tattoo itself was removed with some urgency which means that, those familiar with the groups insignia might be able to identify the faded tattoo for what it is if they can get a good look at it.

Apart from this, when not on his armor, Khosin prefers to wear a white, long sleeved, shirt along with grey pants and matching shoes most of the time.


Background: Born from a moderately wealthy family in 2143 CE, Khosin found his initial life to be an easy one. His parents were a loving couple that often doted on their children, and he adored his trio of younger brothers and sisters and the discovery of biotic potential within the young Batarian proved to not be problematic and his family managed to find a school that accepted Biotic children easily enough.

As such, most of the life of the young Batarian would be a pleasant -fairly uneventful- one. His parents were kind people, treating their slaves well, and would recite excerpts from the Pillars of Strength from time to time to their children. In short order, Khosin's family was a 'model' family so to speak within the society of the Batarian Hegemony.

That all would change the year 2165 CE, when his father invested most of the family's funds in what -at the moment- seemed a secure investment in a fledgling mining colony being funded by the Hegemony in the Skyllian Verge. But what seemed to be a safe prospect turned to be anything so, as the colony was lost to the Alliance's aggressive colonizing efforts which -along with the Council favoring the Alliance in hat particular instance, and the Hegemony paying a meager, if they paid at all, insurance- the Sedgoroh family found itself barely making enough money to not sell themselves into servitude. It was at this point that Grathe found himself enlisting with the Hegemony's military in the hopes of making the humans that had ruined his family pay, a decision motivated mostly by the newfound hatred of humanity that the young Batarian felt.

It wouldn't be so and although Khosin proved himself a capable soldier, specially on the field of engineering over biotics, he was deemed a troublemaker -starting fights with his fellow soldiers and getting into arguments with his superiors- and was being considered for a discharge before his second year within the military, it was at this time when he was approached by a Colonel within the Hegemony's military for a 'special' project as the man himself put it.

After this, Khosin's history is mostly unknown until 2171 CE where he appears within a passenger's list arriving on the Citadel station within a freighter that came from the Terminus system. However, things were not to be easy, for Khosin found that in the Citadel it was difficult to find work within a mercenary outfit and as such, he found himself booking a passage for Omega.

Once he found himself within the asteroid space station, the Batarian found himself looking once more for merc work, Where he eventually found himself enlisting within the Blue Suns mercenary outfit, mostly due to the fact that the Suns were the only major merc group that regularly recruited Batarians as himself. As fate would have it, Khosin managed to find work within the mercenary group thanks to the recommendation of a friend within it, a Batarian by the name of Rorish Ghem'meros whom he had met while working for the Colonel. The same Colonel that had drafted him before his discharge from the Hegemony military, with Rorish being someone he met during his first year and who -coincidentally- left the Colonel's group after that first year.

The experience of being a Blue Sun proved to be a life changing decision for Khosin, as the job forced him to come into contact with a more diverse group of people -specifically Turians and Humans- which forced him to become a somewhat more accepting person and even if he continued to firmly hate the human Alliance, the experience allowed him to work with humans (if albeit begrudgingly at times). Unfortunately, his tendency as a troublemaker from his days as a Hegemony soldier followed him into his life as a mercenary and he easily got into fight with his fellow Blue Suns rather easily.

As such, his tenure within the mercenary group turned to be rather short -numbering only four years, with the day of his departure corresponding with the opening days of 2175 CE- and Khosin found himself dumped into the streets of Omega once more, along with a beating courtesy of those 'friendly' enough to leave him at the space station marking the occasion.

Without much of an experience outside of military work, Khosin Grathe found himself working on the closest profession at hand, bounty hunting. He worked alone for the next year, specializing in bringing live bounties for his clients, before he decided to join the team of one Captain Jerrel Luzami, lured by the promise of credits and the benefits of working with a team of mercs once more.

Equipment:
Executioner Pistol IV (Scavenged from a member of the Blood Pack)
Kishock Harpon Gun II (Hegemony issued version)
M-96 Mattock I (Paid by with his own funds)
Cipher Model Omni-Tool (Paid by with his own funds, same with modifications)
Enforcement Gauntlet
Fire thrower
Music Player
Gemini Bio-Amp (Supplied during his time among the Blue Suns)
Medium Partisan Armor (Batarian State Arms, paid by with his own funds)

My Hider

Powers:
Drone
Leash
Incinerate
Reave
Tech Armor

[AeronFarron]

Alex Wincourt

Name:Alexandria "Alex" Wincourt

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Age: 26

Class: Vanguard, combat medic, weapon tech

Appearance: Alex stands at 6'2" and features a rather long, well muscled frame with strong shoulders and a warm olive skin tone Her eyes are a hazel color and are characterized by their seemingly shifting green/light brown color. A slim but crooked nose, dark brown well shaped--if not a bit thick--eyebrows and a strong jawline make up the most noticeable of her facial features. She carries a nasty scar that stretches from just below her left eye to just below her left ear lobe. Her dark brown hair is short as it has started to grow back after being shaven off following her L3-R surgery.

Off duty or around the ship, she could be seen wearing a hoodie over a regulation shirt with some pants and boots. While on duty, she is typically in her armor. If she is caught without her hoodie, various scars can be seen on her arms and hands. They range from a knife wound on her forearm to a few scabbed over burn wounds from live fire.

Background:

Alex was born on Shanxi in 2152 to a rather large family of 8--and counting. Alex grew up as the youngest into a family that was well known for repair work of all sorts. Her father was a humble plumber, while her mother worked at an Eezo refinery. From vehicles to weapons to ships to plumbing, there were many Wincourts that fit the bill for "fixer upper" for a variety of things; So much so, that it was a family business.

Alex got off to a slow start as a child. She didn't start walking until almost thirteen months,and she rarely cried or expressed other emotions. She didn't interact well with the siblings that were closer in age, and didn't take well to the early introductions of Wincourt learning toys. Her parents struggled to figure out what was wrong with their youngest, but the answer didn't come until almost a month after Alex's first birthday.

Alex's grandfather, her name's sake, was the one that figured it out. On a hunch, he set the youngest child of his oldest son on his knee and set his old pistol in her hands. The girl took to it quickly with an unprecedented level of interaction. She turned it this way and that and gnawed on the handgrip until dropped it and attempted to retrieve it. Alexander had smiled down at what he had begun to call his "Little Marine".

By the time she was five, Alex had flourished where weapons and rudimentary medicine were concerned. She would babble constantly about firearms and the human body--in that enduring but annoying way that only little kids can--and used weapon magazines and medical journals as material for learning how to read. She was regaled by tales of her uncles that relaxed on their down time from Earth or from contracts, while her aunts told her of their experiences as field medics. She dreamed of adventures and of saving people whether through liberating oppressed people's, saving the prince/princess, or by merely healing a great commander. And of course, followed her older siblings around like the tint shadow she was.

Then, the First Contact War brought the first bout of unadulterated darkness to the girl's world. The first to die was her eldest brother, the ship he had been contracted to as an engineer was destroyed by the Turians. The next to die were her favorite aunt and uncle, two soldiers that were there on leave. They also lost their lives in the skies above Shanxi. One by one, Alex's large family dwindled in the battles until finally, the Alliance officer in charge surrendered. Those few months were lodged deeply into the girl's psyche. She was haunted by the sounds of overhead fire and exploding buildings.

In the end, Alex was left with only her father, one elder brother and her eldest sister from her immediate family. Her mother was put into a coma, following the transport accident that claimed 3 of her kids during the occupation. A few months later, Alex's father pulled her mother's life support, and she passed within a few minutes.

In 2160, Alex was sent to Jump Zero after her biotic abilities began to manifest, by her father. At only eight years of age, Alex was still fairly small and young. She was taken in by a small group of teenagers that soon become her second family. She clung to the older kids and, with their help, threw herself into her learning, physical training, and lessons. The one she often called "big sister" helped to tutor her and break down the complicated equations and bits so she wouldn't get left behind. Her "biggest brothers" protected her and sheltered her, she was as much of a suitable replacement for their own younger sisters as they were replacements for her own older siblings.

Alex proved to be a very adept apprentice when it came to biotic applications and medical technologies. While she had an issue with barriers and other defensive applications, Alex's offensive capabilities proved too advanced for many of the human teachers. So, she focused on medicine and weaponry as a supplement until better, less defensively minded teachers could be hired.

Issues arose during her 6th year at BAaT, when turians had begun to get hired to teach the new biotics. Young and impulsive, Alex had not forgiven the Turians for killing her mother, aunts, uncles, grandfather and siblings during their time in Shanxi. She became overly aggressive and a danger to those closest to her as she struggled to deal with so much hate and anger. The turian, a smart military combat doctor, saw an opportunity. He antagonized her and fed her hatred by singling her out and lowering her rations and water as "punishments". When she didn't break, he did the same for all of those associated with her until she snapped. The girl used her biotics to tackle him through a wall and into the hallway outside of the classroom. The turian lived through the ordeal with more than a few new scars.

He later met her while she was in isolation punishment and sat with her. She never spoke or acknowledge him. He continued to do so, day in and day out, until she finally snapped at him to leave her alone. He then asked her a question that she would never forget:

"Do the ghosts of your family leave you alone?"

During the remaining time as her teacher, he became her mentor and--eventually--her first crush. With a firm hand, he taught her how to suture and heal, whole also toughening her mind against the pain of hunger, thirst, and loss of comrades. He instilled the idea that honorable comrades were to be respected and that no other force in the universe could compare to the brotherhood of her unit. She took to the lessons like a fish to water, and he watched proudly as her powers and thirst for knowledge grew more and more.

By the time the program was shut down in 2169, Alex harbored little resentment towards turians as a whole. She thrived under the harsh lessons as she was forced to face herself and her personal demons. Hunger and thirst were nothing new to her by that point, but she gleaned an understanding of what it meant to be a soldier. A soldier that did what they had to do to fulfill their mission and bring home as many as they could.

Right after the BAaT debacle, Alex enlisted in the into the Alliance in the 63rd division. She spent the early part of 2170 in Vanguard training and fought in the battles on Mindoir. She helped to break a Batarian siege of civilians then helped to protect that strategic outpost under heavy fire for many, many days. She fought hunger and thirst to give her remaining rations to her comrades, and stood with them, fighting and healing, against the tide of blood and death until they were relieved.

Later, she was stationed at various colonies. Right before 2172 began, she spent her leave in Shanxi and reunited with her father. Her father had cleaned up his act and had found a new love in his life. His remaining daughter and new wife got along rather well, and the three spent her few days together.

In 2172, Alex was refitted with her L3-R implants and continued her service with the Alliance military. In 2176, she was slated to retire from the military to continue her medical education at Jon Grissom Academy after six years of service. But her plans were changed when the Batarians attacked Elysium.

Alex participated in the Blitz, both formally and informally. Her unit picked up the distress signal while their transport was taking them to the Academy during their leave. Immediately, the mixed tactics unit landed to aid and defend in anyway that they could. Alex led the way as the vanguard spearhead, causing confusion amongst the Batarians before retreating to make way for snipers and cover fire. She then set up a medical zone for her comrades, and organized a team of makeshift nurses to care for the wounded civilians and soldiers.

The 63rd fought hard and viciously to protect outposts and break the enemy lines where they could. But the battles brought back a lot of long buried memories, in addition to creating new ones. By the end of it, Alex was waist deep in the blood of those she killed and of those she healed...and those she had lost on the table.

Alex retired in the wake of the Blitz. She did not go to Grissom Academy, but instead become a bounty hunter. She figured, if she could beat the mess out of a Turian to get over what they did to her family...then maybe she could do the same to the Batarians.

A month later, there was no progress. Bounty after bounty came and went, but Alex still felt the rage. She grew more and more angry and bitter with every slave captain she encountered and with every war crime she witnessed against human civilians. She came to the dark conclusion that the Batarian forces weren't a noble people that were trying to protect the galaxy like the Turians. No, they were a greedy blight on decent, hardworking people and aliens that need to be dealt with.

Her one woman bounty spree came to an abrupt halt however when her old captain handed over an announcement. She owed him a favor, and he figured that he owed her a second chance at life. Alex decided to humor the old man's request to join an upstart crew. The Batarians would be safe...relatively.

Equipment:
Hahne-Kedar Lancer Assault Rifle (M-7 Lancer)
Medium Hydra Armor with this helmet:


Standard Omni-tool:
Flashlight
Scanner
Repairing items
Dispensing medi-gel
Programming and hacking (she never uses this)
Camera
Video, audio and holographic communication
Downloading and playing video games
Converting items into omni-gel
Manufacturing objects in real time
Optional Omni-blade
Various medical journals stored locally for references and light reading.

L3-R implants

Advanced medical knowledge of combat injuries, sicknesses, and medicine.

Powers:
Assault Mastery
Lash
Slam
Biotic Charge
Nova
Smash

Font Colour: Yellow

[Fallenreaper]

Vellios Malkai

Name: Vellios Malkai

Race: Turian

Sex: Male

Age: 37 Earth years/22 Palavan years

Class: Soldier, Hire muscle/shooter (This is the primary skill and job. However, he's more than just a muscle/shooter because of the wide range of jobs he took by choice, but specialists in things like medical, tech, engineer, etc that have beyond the basics will top him.)

Appearance:

Vellios has a carapace as dark as midnight, his surface greedy in absorbing the light that literally none shines off it. Physically he’s rather thin for his race, almost underfed and lithe with just enough muscle for speed rather than strength. He can easily dart in and out of reach of his target, slicing them up while he's giving a cocky ass grin. His height is at 6’2” enabling him to hold eye to eye level with most the other male turians. Vellios' color is that of ice and seems to hold the same sharpness and chill when he takes a interest in a target. Along his outside are various scars marring the surface, breaking the perfection most younger males would have during their career, many have faded into greyish lines and most of them covered by his clothes. The most dominant one is one nearly severing his mandible thanks to a shot from a close range handgun when he was 18 and a foot soldier during the 314 Relay Incident.

His face has the traditional Palaven markings, a single stroke across the nose and cheeks with another following the mandible down part way. It’s a permanent mark, inked like a tattoo so it’s impossible to remove it due to its importance to Vellios. The ink itself is the same shade as his eyes, making it able to be easily seen on his carapace even though part of the design is marred thanks to the Relay 314 Incident.

Background:

It started when Liana Malkai, a former conscript and promising turian soldier, left her homeworld. She was pregnant with her first child and from the moment Vellios was born on a turian frigate, his whole life was spent traveling from ship to ship and taught by his mother. Most the times she fed him tales over his father. From how he died during a space fight to his undying love toward his mother, idolizing the turian in Vellios’ eyes. It seemed his sacrifice was too grievous to bear and she had retired from the military service to spend the rest of her days exploring the galaxy. She made ends meet using her machinist skills to pay for room and food costs, Vellios was more busy exploring the inner ship works than learning his mother’s trade.

It was 2149 CE when their latest ship was boarded and captured by pirates, his mother and several others taken prisoner. She had managed to stow him away before the pirates discovered her and hauled her way. Naturally Vellios followed quietly, avoiding the ship’s bustling marauders seeking additional victims or valuables to satisfy their greedy appetites. They were a motley crew from what he could tell. It was a mixed batch of krogans, vorcha, and turians with a few asari and salarians scattered throughout. On entering the bridge area where he had been always been taught to go, Vellios walked in on his mother’s execution in progress causing youth to rush forward. His small body caught the krogan off guard before Vellios' body was tossed back. The krogan, Syberus’ second in command, Jurdron, quickly pointed his shotgun at the youth who sat there in defiance.

He wasn’t killed, but toyed with by the very captain, Syberus, a ex-military turian turned pirate. Impressed by Vellios’ stubborn nature and resistance, he called for a modest, dull blade. Then he ordered the boy to kill his mother. At his refusal, Syberus shot his mother causing the boy to attempt to attack him only to be beaten by Jurdron then pinned down to listen to his mother’s pleading cries.

In the end, Syberus leaned in and whispered quietly, saying if she wanted her son to live and be free, she should persuade him to kill her. In the end, Liana sacrificed herself by forcing her own son to kill her in hopes he would live and be free. It wasn’t meant to be because Syberus ordered the boy to taken onboard and the ship destroyed. Vellios was hauled off kicking and screaming, his broken body wiggling in the krogan’s grasp before being knocked out cold.

For four years, he learned the way of the Haides, Syberus’ ship as the longest lasting ‘cabin’ boy. If you didn’t learn to be cold, kill and quick on your feet then you starved or died. About five other boys had died in the first year he was onboard, mostly from the abuse gained from the older crew members who cared little for their well being. In their minds, the sooner the boys were killed than less future competition for the spoils. Among the crew, it was the captain that seemed to seek out Vellios for particular harsh lessons whenever he broke the ship’s rules. One event stuck with him for a long time. It was when he became a friend to a young, fragile Batarian cabin boy when he was about thirteen or so. Vellios, being the oldest, stopped the Batarian's near death by tossing himself onto the aggressor then chasing him off. The two boys were tossed into a pit like structure where they were made to starve until one of them was killed. His friend was the first to break and forced Vellios into killing him.

“The weak have no place in the world save for reminding us of our strength.” Said the Captain above, his words echoed upon Vellios’ grieving form.

Vellios was forced to endure in a world he was trapped in and became emerged in the lifestyle. Fueled by hidden desire for revenge against the Captain, he had killed numerous times upon ship raids and on Haides until he became an lean teenager of cockiness and confidence. Including a taste for blood. He wasn’t the alpha but he was still force to be challenged even among larger foes. It was only matter of time before someone caught up to the pirates, again tossing his life into a struggle to survive.

At night, they left port and sailed into vast space in a lazy drift after their last raid on a colony. Out of the darkness a mercenary ship descended on them, hired by someone with a grudge. In the fire, blood, and chaos running rampant over the ship, Vellios spotted his chance to kill the bastard Syberus when he was wounded in a gunfight. On retreating back to his quarters, Vellios’ attacked and used the chance to kill him. After the reveal of a life rattling secret, the turian made his way through crumbling debris and additional enemy reinforcements.

On reaching the small shuttle he's learned to drive, his attempts often foiled when it came to using it to escape, he jettisoned into space. The last thing he spotted was the Krogan standing over Syberus’ body and putting the pieces together.

Days passed, his shuttle long ran out of power and food that he was pretty sure he would die. In fact he was at death's doorstep when a volus merchant ship came by and saved him. They allowed the turian to hitch a ride, his body regained health during the trip back to Palaven where he tried to escape. He was arrested then placed into an orphanage later on.

He was conscripted a year later.

He showed great promise in his training, namely when it came to effective killing naturally. Though he had slight advantage thanks to his experiences aboard the Haides. Soon he was assigned to the 6th Armigar Legion and sent into battle during the Relay 314 Incident. Vellios stood out above his fellow soldiers with his ability to get the job done at almost any cost. Despite his merit, his team, among other Turians, were forced back when the Second Alliance Fleet entered the fight. He was 18 at the time of it all and he didn't leave unmarked.

Over the next 14 years, he ended up building a career within the military. During those years he met his wife through communications department and eventually they were engaged then married at the age of 21. His son, Tiberian, and daughter Kilia, were born about a year apart 3-4 years later. When he was on military leave during his son’s seventh birthday, he was greeted by a horrifying scene. His family was murdered, their blood painted on the wall leaving behind a message he would never forget: You killed Syberus. The evidence was undeniable while he held his family’s corpses and rocked back and forth, his heart tearing into pieces at the gruesome sight at his being taken away.

He turned 33 when his grieving period was over. He immediately tossed himself back into the service with a motivation to distract himself from his pain. Vellios’ accomplishments drew his superior’s attention, who in turn put him into the running for the Spectre program among many other candidates from a wide selection of other Legions, Fleets, and Marine Divisions. When he was young he had a slight drug addiction but after the murder of his family, his prior drug usage had become more aggressive. Now in order to sleep peacefully, he required a dose or three. Thankfully it never interfered with his work.

He was assigned to a Spectre, a Trominus Yinso, and proved worthy enough to be put on a mission. While the actual events are classified, it was clear Vellios had the ability, will and additional qualities to become a Spectre but his personal motives didn’t align with the Council. (PMed details to GMs) He was dismissed. Over time his nightmares seemed to edge away, his failure at the Spectre program appeared to motivate his withdraw from the military. There was too many painful memories there now and he felt it was time for a fresh start. For the next three years he spent his time as a mercenary and drifter, going in and out of different territories in order to make a living. The first year he was solo, but gradually he was joining groups on temporary basis in order to increase his payload. It was during that time he met Serena, who seemed interesting enough to accompany for several missions. They both had gotten close though even when she does know the full extent of his past or the reason for the drug and drinking habits. With her around, his issue has decreased some but it will never be gone.

Equipment: This is what he has. Not what he carries on his person all the time. Usually he keeps his stash where he's stationed and selects based on mission, using what is best depending on the information he's given. However, attempting thieves will find all his gear has been branded with a specialized chemical that when exposed to black light reveals a VM on each solid part. In addition, he has extreme intimate knowledge about each one since he’s used them often enough.

Weapons

• Shotgun- Scimitar (Elkoss Combine)
• Pistol- Karpov (Rosenkov Materials)
• Assault Rifle- M8 Avenger (Elkoss Combine)
• Sniper Rifle- Volkov (Rosenkov Materials)
  Omni Tool: Logic Arrest Tool produced by Ariake Technologies
• Flashlight
• Scanner
• Repairing items
• Dispensing medi-gel
• Programming and hacking- (he knows how to apply them but Serena often has to instruct his sorry ass.)
• Camera
• Video, audio and holographic communication
• Downloading and playing video games
• Converting items into omni-gel
• Manufacturing objects in real time
• Omni-blade
  Ammo Types
• Cryo
• Disruptor
• Shredder
• Grenades
• Smoke Grenades- has about 4 currently on him, and about 7 in storage back on the ship.
  Armor
• Light Armor- Survivor Armor produced by Delvon Industries (military issued and paid for by service)
• Heavy Armor- Colossus Armor produced by Kassa Fabrication (saved up for 2-3 years)

Additional Items

• 2 Short range knives for melee combat

Skills:

• Fitness
• Marksmanship
• Fortitude
• Military training: Ability to delay shock from wounds with adrenaline, keep calm in extreme conditions, increased reflexes and speed dominate, etc.

Powers:

• Adrenaline Rush
• Ballistic Blades (with Explosion function optional)
• Concussion Shot
• Defense Matrix (Given and programmed by Serena)
• Cain Trip Mines

Font Colour: RosyBrown

[Thundercrash]

Name: Ceisstia “Tia” V’dore

Race: Asari

Sex: mono

Age: 179

Class: Vanguard, security, weapons tech. She also has some first aid skills and rudimentary piloting experience with transports and single-person craft.

Appearance: Tia stands at around 5’8”, with dark bluish-violet skin and dark blue eyes. She has a rather slim, muscular build, appropriate for the amount of training and combat practice she does. The second head crest on her left side is missing a third of its length. Her facial markings are very short and narrow, save for where they extend along her head crests. She has numerous knife and bullet scars across her body. Her armour is decorated dark purple, with certain pieces bearing patch marks, dents, and scars. She almost always wears at least one piece of it, usually the breastplate and shoulderplates. Her visor unit is never removed.

Background: Ceisstia was born on Omega, the daughter of a club dancer, however she bears very little memory of her. During a turf war between the Blood Pack and another gang, a stray missile struck their apartment, and Tia’s mother was killed. It was this same event that damaged Tia’s headcrest.

Afterwards, Tia was essentially adopted by a Turian named Matius Ruflin, a disgraced former captain who had deserted after a poor tactical decision resulted in his unit being annihilated by pirates. Matius and Tia’s mother had had a quite cordial relationship, and Matius saw Tia as his chance at redemption, by teaching her the codes of honour that he had failed to live by.

Under Matius’s tutelage, Tia became proficient in marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat, as Matius recognized that Omega could be a very dangerous place for someone who was not capable of defending themselves. The combat philosophy that she developed was one of brutal efficiency and pragmatism, taking down enemies in a short period of time without giving them any opportunity to recover, retaliate, or strike first. This relationship also drove the development of Tia’s biotics, using them primarily to supplement her skills as opposed to relying on them. Consequently, Tia’s biotic strength is only a little above the average Asari. By far the most formative lesson that Matius taught her was that of integrity. Tia’s word became her bond, and the idea of breaking it was anathema to her. It was not until much later, when her adoptive father lay on his death bed, that she learned how much of a hypocrite he was.

As many on Omega were known to do, after Matius's death Tia joined up with one of the mercenary gangs that controlled virtually every aspect of the station's life. In Tia's case, it would be the Eclipse who took her in. Over the course of her 115 years as a member, Tia has developed a reputation as someone who could always be relied upon to get the job done, with relatively few moral issues. She also became known as someone who would clear house, with zero tolerance for traitors and backstabbers, regardless of rank, position or skill set. This became apparent very early on in her career, while she was working security aboard a salarian freighter that was commonly used by the Eclipse for smuggling. The captain was discovered to be both overcharging the gang for fuel and supplies, as well as shortchanging his crew, so as to produce more profit for himself. When Tia demanded her pay in full, the captain attempted to cover his tracks by killing her. The confrontation ended with the captain's head splattered against the wall.

This was only the first of several such incidents; people who made the mistake of attempting to take advantage of her supposed naivety learned that having a sense of honour was not a weakness. This is not to say that these attempts have not left their mark. Most of her scars came from wounds left by those who decided they were better served with her out of the chain, and a botched treatment of one such injury cost her all feeling in three fingers on her left hand.

Ultimately, it was this dedication to honour, along with the Eclipse's habit of getting into feuds with the Blue Suns and Blood Pack, that caused Tia to leave; the few people she considered trustworthy were all too often killed by those who weren't. When she made the decision to leave, the bloody path she had left across their ranks made the gang decide that perhaps the wiser choice was to leave her be. The two came to an understanding: Eclipse would not come after Tia directly, and Tia would not return to Omega.

For the next 24 years, Tia primarily took on security contracts, retrieval bounties, and the occasional hit if the pay was enough. Those who hired her found that she treated contracts with the same level of respect as most species treated holy scripture. Tia always completed the job as it was agreed upon, payment was expected as agreed upon, and renegotiation was only accepted if there were unforeseen complications in the jobs completion. Employers also found that attempting to cheat Tia was unwise: she always came to collect, and even death would not keep her from getting what she was owed.

With the flood of contracts and hunts following the Skyllian Blitz, times have been good for Ceisstia, and she's developed a modest nest-egg for herself. No longer feeling inclined to accept high-risk contracts, she's turned her interests towards more secure, long-term work. And a newly posted security contract with a certain salarian smuggler looks just right to her.

Equipment: Executioner pistol, M-22 Eviscerator shotgun, M-96 Mattock heavy rifle, Incendiary grenades, medium armour with off-hand ammo packs, and a visor unit (a precursor to the Archon visor) that she acquired as payment for a job.

Powers: Pull, Throw, AP ammo, Disrupter ammo, Shredder ammo, technically Stasis, however using it requires concentration and cripples her combat ability

Colour: Flame, E25822

[Rtron]

Serena

Name: Serena Mathews

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Class: Sentinel (specializing in Robotics. Mechs, VI/AI, etc.)

Appearance Five foot four inches, with brown eyes. She has burn scars all along her arms and some on her face, from the sparks of droids, and one particularly nasty scar along her stomach from where she was obviously stabbed.

Background: Serena was born to San Pedro Sula, Honduras. The reach of the Alliance was far from her family, and they acted accordingly. Kept their heads down, payed whatever fines that were demanded of them, and tried to avoid the gang wars. Serena had heard that years and years ago it had been considered the most crime ridden city in the world. She didn't know if that was true anymore, but it certainly felt like it with the cramped living conditions and nigh constant gang wars. Her father repaired and sold various mechs,drones, and VI’s in addition to doing repairs on ships whenever he could to scrounge more credits.. Combat, medical, and domestic mechs. Drones for any and all purposes, you request it, her father would build it or fix it and Serena learned most of her talents from him. Her mother helped him, even when she was pregnant with Serena. It was obvious that because of her mother's insistence upon helping, Serena's biotic powers developed. However, she couldn't afford any training or amps as her parents were poor enough as is.

For several years they managed to scrape by like this, remaining relatively free of the constant power struggles and fluctuations between the various gangs. Of course, nothing lasts forever. When she was eight, a vicious battle erupted outside of their little shop. Two gangs were battling for control of her district. Up until now, the fights had always been away from them. Serena doesn’t remember much of the incident. Strong emotions and flashes of memory. Helplessness. Her mother’s face filled with fear as she shielded her. Terror. Her father working as fast as he could to get Mech’s up and running to defend the shop.

After that event, the shop torn to shreds by bullets, most of the mechs they had been working on destroyed, her father finally gave in. He started paying one of the gangs, the Cyborgs, for protection. The group that constantly used Mechs could always use someone who was talented working on them. Especially someone who paid them for protection.

This arrangement, which would last for the entirety of her father’s life, lead to Cyborg members frequently visiting her father’s shop. This, of course, lead to her talking to them and getting to know the local gang and it’s members. There were some evil bastards in the group, certainly. But there were also good people. People just trying to do what they could to survive and prosper. Ten years passed, and Serena began to get restless. She began to wonder what life outside Omega was like. What it was like to not be in constant fear of being attacked by gangs, or wondering if her father’s protection payments would rise and then he’d be forced to go bankrupt. It didn’t take her long to decide she wanted to leave.

There was only a couple of ways she could get out of San Pedro Sula. She could charter a passage on a ship, but that cost more money than she or her father had and would only get her to one place. What she would do after getting to that one place was an unknown. She could sign up with a mercenary company. It offered a way to get out of San Pedro, a job, and a sure way to be on the move. Mercenary companies offered a way to get around and actually see the world and the galaxy. And, she reasoned, she could find someone who wouldn't constantly be thrusting her into stupid battles and she would be relatively sure of the fact that she was on the good side. Finally, she could sign up with the Alliance military. Steady pay, definitely on the good side, galaxy and world travelling, equipment, training...it was really so much better than mercenary work wasn't it?

Thus, Serena made her decision. She would join the Alliance navy get out of this town, and use her talents as a Mech repairwoman and VI hacker/programmer to help out the military. Simple. Despite her parents misgivings, they were in no position to stop her. Her leaving would make things easier for all of them. Saying her goodbyes, Serena traveled through the slums that had always been her home and signed up with the Alliance.

They gave her their basic gear. On the off chance her biotic talents could be useful, the tested her.. Turns out she did have some biotic power. Thus, they began teaching her how to use her amp and her powers. Serena was never very talented at it, but she did learn how to use barriers and telekinesis. The former is very handy in fights and the latter in general use.

For five years she worked with the Alliance. For the most part she escaped direct combat. She hacked, she designed mechs, drones and VI’s, and she repaired them. When she was close to the combat she was always protected and separate. There was even a free lance mercenary Krogan that she worked with frequently. Barat was hired by the Alliance when they needed more muscle for a mission faster than they could send help. After several missions and close calls together, Barat took to following Serena around and sharing in her pay. While not an official member of Alliance, he was a great help whenever their subtle operations took a turn for the worse.

For a while, it was all fine. She got all she wanted. Outside of San Pedro (Indeed, Earth entirely), exploring the Galaxy, never in the same place. Oh, and the deaths of dozens on her hands. For the most part she could easily say that it was self defense. Kill or be killed. There were some grey areas she chose to ignore, however. Some areas where she couldn’t be quite certain that what she had done was right. So she ignored them. Or tried to at least. The deaths still weighed on her mind.

Her breaking point came when she was assigned to a hacking mission. Simple enough, get in the two story tall security building, get the data, get out. There was a chance that she would have to fight her way out, however, and for that she was grateful to have Barat with her. Things went great up until they got too the actual data they needed to hack into. They managed to kill the surprisingly few guards there were (Barat wasn’t sneaking past anything), and get to the data hub without a hitch. Just as Serena was beginning to download what they needed, alarms suddenly blared throughout the building. They waited, because it was their mission, until all the data was downloaded, By then, the guards that had been suspiciously absent were pouring towards them, Barat having already overheated two guns as he held them back (there were plenty to pick up off the floor.)

They beat a hasty retreat, trying to get out of the building before they got overwhelmed and subsequently murdered. Somewhere, they took a wrong turn. Made a mistake. They found themselves in a dead end. Good news? They were on the ground floor. The windows showed as much. The bad news? The security forces were outside the door. From the sounds of it, they were getting ready for an assault.

Barat recognized what was going to happen first. Whether it was just intuition or years of experience, Barat shoved her onto the ground screaming at her to throw up a barrier, as every guard (or so it seemed from Serena’s point of view) threw in his or her grenade. She only had time and the wherewithal to throw a barrier around herself. Then the world seemed to explode. When she was back to her senses, she was alone. There was a massive chunk in the wall and a bloodied body nearby. Barat must have been thrown free by the explosions.

Serena didn’t waste time mourning or trying to recover anything as a memento from her dead friend. He would have killed her for doing something as stupid as that. She bolted through the gigantic hole in the wall and didn’t stop running. She didn’t go to the Alliance evacuation location. She just kept going until she was sure she had lost them. Once she was sure, she allowed herself to break down. She was in some dirty alley, with another life on her hands. This one she couldn’t ignore. This one she couldn’t claim as Self-defense. Barat’s death was on her hands, and her hands alone. Her failure. Her weakness.

Serena never returned to the the Alliance. She simply moved from mercenary group to mercenary group. For five years she did this, doing her best to avoid the contracts that would end in morally ambiguous territory and deaths, and trying to pick up the ones that she knew would benefit people. Even if they were merely repair or defense jobs. She picked up Vellios along the way, the Turian showing up on more and more of her missions until they were a team. They saw the offer for a job and figured...why not? They were in between jobs and it was definitely for a good cause.

Equipment:
-M-3 Predator

-Savant X Omni-tool

• Things that come standard to an Omni-Tool. Repairing items, scanning, Omni and Medi-gel, converting to Omni-Gel, communications, etc.
• Various utilities, ranging from a flashlight, to manufacturing items in real time, to video and audio feed, to the ability to turn into tools Serena might need in her repairs..
• Hacking and the ability to program VI’s.
• Omni-Bow with explosive or concussive shot. (She’s not deadly accurate with it, but she can use it competently.)
• Omni-Shield.

-Light Mercenary V armor,

-Solaris I Bio-amp.

-Combat drone named Del who can split into three smaller combat drones if needed.

-A small drone that Serena largely uses to assist in repairing and hacking, named Sarah.

-Plans for a custom made mech in the shape of a Krogan with heavy armor and redundant systems.

Powers: Tech Armor, Damping, Overload, Sabotage, Lift, Barrier.

Misc:
-Serena can’t sit still when lying. She fidgets. Tapping her foot, fiddling with something in her pocket, so on so forth.

-Serena likes to make prototype mechs/drones. These tend to explode.

-Serena enjoys the game of Chess, and has even made her own board and independently moving pieces.

Color: HotPink Coding: [color=Hotpink][/color] See! It works!

[DJAtomika]

Hazan Volintis

Name: Hazan "Haze" Volintis

Race: Turian

Sex: Male

Age: 32

Class: Soldier
Specialisation: Runner (excels at navigating urban spaces, fast and agile on foot)
Ship Duty: Navigator and comms.

Appearance (picture too big)

(ignore the sniper rifle, it's not part of his kit any more)
Hazan stands six feet straight, boasting not much in the way of uniqueness other than his family's face paint, which is a stark snow white against the gunmetal grey of his chitin. His armour is scratched, battle-worn. Dinged and scraped. His visor, similar is worn but still usable. His eyes are a stark, bright yellow that stands out from the rest of his colourations.

Background: Born to a regular urban Turian family on Palaven, Hazan grew up like any other man of his race would. When he was thirteen, he watched in wonder as the Relay 314 Incident forever changed galactic history as the humans entered the tray.

After finishing school he enlisted into the military and thereafter was enrolled into scout school. There, he was trained in the fine arts of map reading, navigation, terrain traversal and close quarters combat. He spent months honing this art, on Palaven and on other non-hostile worlds, practicing navigating tough terrain and laying out a path for others to follow. He enjoyed it, being out in wide open spaces. The rush of air as he ran. Even in confined urban training zones, he developed an art form out of navigating through, sometimes over buildings on foot.

Once he was done with the military, he immediately got on the first ship off of Palaven and headed straight for the Citadel. He signed up with C-Sec and spent many years being the go-to guy for chases on foot. His stamina was matched by a few others in C-Sec, but his ability to navigate the urban confusion of the Citadel was unmatched. It wasn't long before his boss gave him a promotion to an investigator and then smothered him with desk work. Clearly someone had it out for him.

After years of dealing with bureaucracy and rules and paperwork, the stress and stuffiness got to him. He packed his kit, took all the savings he had and hightailed it straight to the Terminus Systems.

Once there, he threw away his badge and turned mercenary, adopting a new identity for himself as the Ghost, a mostly mysterious sniper who sold his services for credits. He took many jobs, most solo, some with smaller, independent merc groups that dissolved not long after they were paid. The jobs he worked were some of the most explosive and dangerous he'd ever done, but for once he was free.

This life had its bad sides though. Through sheer bad luck, the Ghost was made. Hazan had to give up his identity as other mercs and bounty hunters descended on the sniper's head. He left his rifle behind and adopted a new identity as Haze, a runner and navigation specialist. The only memories of his old life that he kept was the scope of his Mantis, that he now used as a rangefinder.

It was then that he found the employment notice floating around the Intranet. A smuggler wanted a crew for his ship. No training required. Every good crew needed a navigator, so he signed up right away, mostly to escape his hunters but to find a new adventure to go on. With his new identity, he decided to let loose a little. Be less of the stoic, aloof sniper he once was. Thus was how he signed up to be the navigator for the Borealis.

Equipment:

• M-96 Mattock battle rifle
• M-3 Predator heavy pistol
• M-27 Scimitar assault shotgun
• Phantom-class light armour, minus the hood.
• Ariake Technologies Kuwashii Visor.
• Combat knife

Powers: Frag Grenade, Adrenaline Rush, Concussive Shot, Incendiary Ammo, Disruptor Ammo

Font Colour: Dodger blue!

[The Grey Warden]

Marco Castillo

Name
Marco Castillo

Nickname
Nemesis

Race
Human

Sex
Male

Age
Twenty-nine

Class
Soldier │ Shock Trooper │ Chef

Appearance
Marco stands at 5'08" with the average weight of 180. His black hair was long until he joined the Systems Alliance and cut it short for good. And his serious gaze with light brown eyes, making him a trustworthy person.

He also has two tattoos: a tattoo on his right leg and a sleeve tattoo on his right arm.

Background
"The Universe, so far as we can observe it, is a wonderful and immense engine; its extent, its order, its beauty, its cruelty, makes it alike impressive." — George Santayana, The Life of Reason, 1916.

One year before the Prothean relics were discovered on Mars, Marco Castillo was born in the capital of the Philippines. His father, Malakai Castillo, had been in the Philippine Navy for fifteen years as a commander.

The Castillo's military service begun during the Philippine Revolution, when people of the island fought against Kingdom of Spain for freedom. They tried to fight towards independence until the Philippine-American War began and ended with defeat. Then, they fought in World War II against the Empire of Japan as they were taking over all of Asia. After World War II ended and the country was free from Japanese control, the Castillo family decided to keep the long history of military service going.

Life had been planned for Marco and his other siblings (three sisters and five brothers) until the relics were discovered, proving that humanity wasn't alone. The Castillo family were very religious Catholics among with most of the Philippines. Even, the Pope declined the findings and said that it was "propaganda against all religion". Despite their disagreements, Malakai and his two sons joined the Systems Alliance as soon as it formed.

Because they had joined the Alliance, they moved all the way from Manila to Madrid. The family had a hard time adjusting to life in a new place, while the father signed to be in the 5th Exploration Fleet and the two sons joined the Colonial Garrison Unit. Soon enough, Malakai left Earth to help out in the newly massive military fleet to defend the expanding territory and when one of the first colonies was established, the two sons left as well. Leaving the mother to raise her children alone.

The family decided to stay on Earth, still doubtful of alien life until the First Contact War happened with the attack on Shanxi. At the time, Malakai was with the Second Fleet under Admiral Kastanie Drescher and saw the turian fleet for the first time as they launched a powerful counteroffensive. The news soon spread of the attack and the new aliens, causing fear among the Castillo. And then, they got the news that one of the sons died during the attack. This caused the hate towards aliens to grow.

At the age of nine, Marco overheard his siblings and parents talking about the First Contact War, the Citadel, and the 'aliens'. Months after the First Contact War, his father came back to Earth to discussed plans for the future of the family. Most of the family members hated aliens for taking their loved one away; however, the young Marco didn't understand what really was happening besides the fact that they met other species.

As he was getting older, he got more interested in history of humanity and the other species as he learned about them in school. Despite his thirst for knowledge, his family banned anything that could "corrupt the minds and our religion" and had connections beyond Earth. Marco started to avoid the rules and saw pictures of the Citadel and other planets, read about the history of the turians, and heard rumors about the beautiful asari. The relationship between his family was getting worse until he was found kissing another boy, forcing him to come out as gay.

His father came back to Earth to question Marco's activities among with most of the family. After a heated argument, he was slapped by his mother and was sent to his room. He quickly send a message to his two sisters, Joanna and Ciara, to get him out of Earth as soon as possible. Despite getting the message, they lived at the Citadel and the cost to get someone from Earth to the Citadel was a lot.

It would be months of physical and emotional abuse from his family members until his sisters were able to get enough credits for Marco to board onto a ship to the Citadel. He had finally escaped from the nightmare back at Earth.

Life at the Citadel was a whole lot different than life at Earth—even traveling in space was difficult for Marco. But, he was happy to be away from his family and being independent in this new place. At first, he wanted to be C-Sec like his sister, Ciara; however, they only accepted the best and she was one of the best and respected cops in Spain. But, she taught Marco how to fire a gun and close combat that C-Sec taught her. He had no other choice, but to become a cook at his other sister's restaurant, Joanna.

But, at the age of twenty, he wanted to do something else other than stay at her sister's restaurant. Then, he remembered about the Systems Alliance and the family's military history. He wanted to continue that history, even if the family didn't care about him. That was when he decided to join the Systems Alliance in 2168 CE.

For eight years, he served the Alliance as a cook in the Skyllian Verge and then moved to the 68rd Division, where his shooting and combat skills improved; however, he was still at the Skyllian Verge. He had planned to stay at the alliance until he retired; however, everything changed one day when Mindoir was attacked. His Division was stationed at Mindoir, when batarian slavers attacked the colony. It was a surprise attack as hundreds of slavers started to kill the colonist and even capturing some.

Most of his division were either killed or separated because of the attack. Marco was hiding with some of the colonies, when the rest of the Marines arrived; despite their best efforts, they couldn't push forward. They went from house to house, trying to escape the slavers; however, most of the colonists were dead and some had killed themselves in hopes of not becoming slaves. Marco had to endure the horrors of Mindoir for two days until air support from one of the lines gave him enough time to make a run for it.

Only two colonists lived, while fifteen died during the attack. This event changed him forever, because he felt like he failed the family line again. For the remaining seven years, he went on to travel to different parts of the galaxy. But, he couldn't get Mindoir off of his mind and he had regular nightmares about it, about the colonists that he couldn't save. And the fear that he had to have that responsibility again caused him to retire with honours.

He quickly returned to the Citadel and helped out at his sister's restaurant again. He was the head cook for that restaurant for two years until he saw a classified ad for a job aboard a ship. At first, he didn't think much of the classified ad, but he thought about how he could do good again without the responsibility that he had to have at the Alliance. He took the offer and soon spent his well-earned credits on gears, even known his sisters questioned him about the decision.

But, he said that he would keep in contact with them once he left the Citadel. And Marco soon left behind the perfect life of being a cook at a restaurant for being a cook aboard a ship, traveling around the galaxy and earning credits.

Equipment

Weapons
Katana Shotgun V
Raikou Pistol IV
Tsunami Assault Rifle VI
Inferno Grenades

Armour
Heavy Janissary Armor III

Miscellaneous
Philippines Pendant Necklaces

Powers
Adrenaline Rush
Pistol Marksman
Assault Rifle Overkill
Shotgun Carnage
Immunity

Font Colour
Dark Blue (0072bc)

[Antediluvixen]

Firuzeh Khoroushi

Name: Firuzeh Khoroushi
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Age: 27
Class: Sentinel - Semi qualified doctor, cybernetic scientist, cook

Appearance:

Appearance without armor

With Armor

Firuzeh stands at about 173cm with a muscular but at first seemingly soft frame that, while not exactly that of a seasoned soldier, shows she is no stranger to exertion. She has relatively smooth olive skin, occasionally marred by a small scar - be it a burn, cut from a mishap with some tool or another, or anything else of that nature. If one were to closely examine where skin meets synthetic material on her right shoulder it would become plainly apparent that her decision to have the arm replaced was not an unnecessary one - the tissue is distorted and ugly, almost burned in appearance, with heavy duty connections visible protruding from her skin and connecting to the arm.

Her right arm has been replaced in its entirety, including the shoulder, with a high quality cybernetic, carbon nanotube muscles plainly apparent where laminated graphene plates do not cover. Rather than hide the appearance of the bionic limb, she flaunts it proudly, even going so far as to have laser etched one of the plates covering the area her bicep with her initials and various other designs. The cybernetics are present elsewhere in her body, but are all subcutaneous and far less overt in their effects, primarily skeletal reinforcement to prevent her from breaking her own ribs with the power of the arm.

Firuzeh keeps her hair in a tight braid tucked away while on the job, but in her free time she leaves it loose and flowing. Her hair is dark, wavy, and thick- reaching a little past shoulder length. She has eyes of a minty green hue, seeming warm and welcoming, but with a hard edge to them if one looks closely enough. A small scar runs the distance from her lower lip to her chin, and her nose is bent at a permanent angle, though this serves more to give her a rambunctious swashbuckling air than anything else.

Background:

Firuzeh was born in Isfahan, Iran, to a family with a long and illustrious history of working in the medical profession, with accomplishments ranging back centuries, and a few relatives even popping up in medical history books. In fact, joining the medical profession had become such a universal career in her family, with a few black sheep now and then choosing to become generals, inventors, or kebab merchants in Tehran, that the usual response to a baby on the way was to speculate on what discipline the child would enter, rather than the sex or personality of the baby.

From day one, Firuzeh was gently pushed towards medicine, and while she took to the subject fairly well, most children would have had they been steeped in the medical world since the day they could walk. Every family reunion was marked by questions into prospective fields she wanted to enter, if she wanted to visit her aunt’s workplace for a day, or the occasional excessively detailed retelling of a particularly grueling surgery.

But moreso than medicine, she took to history in her early life, from a young age rushing to explore the ancient ruins of past civilizations that dotted the landscape of Iran, near obsessively engrossing herself in books about the civilizations that used to dominate the land, ancient battles that dictated the fates of empires, and more. Far more than any of the numerous attempts to pull her deeper into the medical profession, this love for history engendered a love of learning - about anything - in her, alongside a fierce thirst for adventure and exploration. Exploring the insides of someone’s diseased heart was interesting, but she felt the lure of the unexplored galaxy. When news reached her at age eight of the First Contact War, it drove this lust for exploration into overdrive, and for a time she completely abandoned any pretense of wanting to be a doctor, instead boldy proclaiming she would be the galaxy’s best explorer - in ten years at any rate.

Throughout all of the exitement, she lead a mostly normal life like most any other child, reading, learning to cook, making friends, and playing games of all sorts.

As she grew older, she was faced with a decision. Deep inside she still longed to explore, but the reality of the world had settled on her shoulders, and she no longer thought exploring the galaxy would be something she could do. She was a city girl with a rich family who’d been groomed for medical work her entire life, not fit to fight in a galaxy chock full of danger and machine guns pointed her direction. Eventually, she followed her family’s lead and was admitted to university a year early, a classic overachiever, having decided (with some sadness) that she would become a surgeon.

Despite her misgivings, she handled university as well as could be expected, earning a master’s in cybernetic technology - something sufficiently advanced to impress her extended family, bachelor’s in toxicology. In addition, she recieved extensive training as a paramedic: learning to set broken bones, basic field surgery, and other things, - it would certainly help if she ever did become an adventurer, a dream she still entertained.

However, she was not content to stay put, and when an opportunity presented itself - a field research opportunity on the colony of Elysium, she jumped at the chance.

She made her way for the colony, eager to begin work that seemed right up her alley. They were there to test out a new generation of cybernetic enhancements on any willing colonists, as a colonist with the strength to tip shuttles on her own had self evident advantages over the original model. Coupled with the beautiful scenery of Elysium, and it was nearly perfect.

She even met nonhumans there, with the occasional turian or Asari popping up, and she forged a friendship with a quarian on her pilgrimage, nearly driving her insane with incessant questions about life in the migrant fleet, and anything she’d seen on her pilgrimage. With said quarian as a mostly voluntary guinea pig, she figured out how to adapt dextro food paste, and actual dextro foods, to Persian recipes she’d learned from her black sheep kebab merchant of an uncle. It wasn’t an exact copy, or anything close to it, but the fact that she could cook with dextro ingredients excited her to no end, like most every other new thing she encountered.

Then the Skyllian Blitz began.

Initially, she tried to stay out of the fighting, hunkering down in the research lab with the other scientists, happy to let the professional fighters hold off the pirates and slavers. However, her patience wore thin, and as the defenses wore thin she snapped one day, seizing a Carnifex off a dead pirate who had mae it a little farther than most and rushed to aid in whatever way she could. Whenever the pistol overheated she would compensate with biotics - having never recieved more than rudimentary training, she had little control - at times barely scratching her target, at others nearly rendering them into a fine paste. The bloodshed shocked her at first, but she began to develop a steely shell against it, coming to see the batarians that assaulted her home as little more than moving targets than actual living beings. At some point she acquired her Mattock, and developed a fondness for applying the butt of the weapon to the face of any pirate unfortunate enough to close to melee range with her.

However, her luck ran out one day. A particularly well hidden batarian sniper packing a Kishock landed a hit squarely on her, thankfully missing her vital organs, but completely sundering her right arm from her body. She still doesn’t remember much of the incident, beyond a dull impact on her shoulder, and waking up two days later with an arm that had significantly more graphene plating than the one that had been there before. Her colleagues had saved her life, at great personal risk, with her quarian friend risking heavy machine gun fire to bring her bleeding body into the lab, where they grafted the cybernetic to her in an emergency surgery, as well as replacing much of the shoulder it had to attach to.

Despite her own knowledge and the desperate attempts of the lab staff to stop her, she had dragged herself outside again to continue fighting. She didn’t have the energy to run from place to place, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t shoot at anything stupid enough to pop its head up within her sights.

In an ironic twist, her foolhardy decision to continue fighting rather than resting saved her life. Something, she didn’t know what, hit the lab, leaving it a smoldering ruin strewn with body parts and priceless equipment. She thought the deaths of countless soldiers and pirates had hardened her, but the loss of everybody she had come to love and care for over the months on Elysium hit her like a sledgehammer, and she collapsed next to the burning wreckage, what little energy she had left evaporating in an instant.

She didn’t move from the area for a whole day, when an armored gauntlet grabbed her by the shoulder. Expecting a Batarian, she accepted her fate, dropping the rifle she had been clutching, only to be faced with a tired looking Alliance marine.

Miraculously, she had survived, despite everything. But she had nothing left. No job, no friends - only dull ache and the same thirst for adventure - though it was more a thirst for vengeance now. She had spent a few days recuperating, trying to come to terms with the loss of everyone she had come to know - but it never came. Burying her grief, she staggered out of the ruined colony on a packed shuttle, but unlike the rest of the shuttle’s occupants she was not returning to earth - far from it. Something had awakened on the planet, a more bloodthirsty side of her. She enjoyed burying a bayonet into the jugular of a slaver, revelled in the adrenaline. But also a sense of fear over returning home. Her work was destroyed, she had nothing to show for it.

And so she did the only thing that seemed illogical, putting out feelers for any freelance work, be it legal or otherwise. She had nothing to call home beyond a planet now light years away, a planet that offered nothing but safety and comfort.

So, on Elysium she stayed - after a brief foray into orbit, helping with the rebuilding and taking whatever odd jobs came her way.

Equipment:

• M-6 Carnifex - It’s a Carnifex, no more explanation is needed.
• M-96 Mattock with omni-blade bayonet. A semi automatic battle rifle might seem an odd choice for a fighter favoring CQB over anything else, but the rifle’s hard hitting punch and sturdy construction make it excellent for forceful application to the faces of opposing forces.
• Heavy Hazard Armor - In case of environmental hazards. Like toxins. Or high velocity tungsten poisoning.
• Solaris II Bio-Amp
• Polaris Omni-Tool
• Excessive supplies of medi-gel and various diagnostic tools for monitoring vital signs not so commonly covered by suit VI such as neural functions.

Powers:

• Overload
• Stasis
• Tech Armor
• Warp
• Harpoon Rounds