[IC] Mass Effect: Borealis

[Dervish]

Downtown Nova Principium

After delivering the groceries and the new grill to the Borealis, Tonka set off on his own to return the rental hauler to the service and the groggy turian who had seemed surprised when Khosin and himself walked into the shop. Either it was almost exclusively regulars who made use of the rental shop, or the employee was in dire need of rest given his startled reaction. Transaction complete, Tonka had managed to bring it back under the two hour mark and so the fees were pretty negligible, all considered.

Having some time to himself without having to parade around with his team, Tonka decided he could enjoy some time to hunt down something else that tickled his fancy. Namely, real Ryncol, not that knock off shit that bars and clubs across the galaxy sold to aliens that they could drink. If they tried to drink actual Ryncol and weren’t a krogan or vorcha, they would end up in the hospital almost every time. Tonka wanted something that had a bit more of a kick than even the strongest liquors of other levo-races, which got to him… after nearly an entire bottle. The downside to krogan physiology was that alcohol was metabolised far too fast, an evolutionary by-product of discarding toxins that entered the bloodstream. Being effectively invincible to all but the most brutal of trauma was useful for just about everything except for getting intoxicated; then it cost you entirely too many credits.

After asking another krogan for directions, Tonka was lead to a place called Kahl’s Distillery. The doorway was a large iron door with considerable dents from a krogan’s crest impacting it, and inside it looked more like a drug lab than a respectable brewery. Tonka knew he was in the right place. What looked like a cattle bell sat on the cracked and pitted counter; no consideration was given to aesthetics. By Tuchanka standards, anywhere with 4 standing walls was considered luxury.

A few moments later, an unhurried krogan in a clean suit with a number of stains and scorch marks stepped out from behind a curtained door. He looked at Tonka with about the same expression as you would when someone asks you a stupid question.

“What?” he asked.

“Ryncol. You have it?” Tonka replied.

“You have credits?” the clerk said.

Tonka nodded. The clerk stepped into the curtained door frame and came back with a 20 liter fuel canister. It landed on the counter with a thud, explaining its poor condition. “Three hundred.”

Tonka opened a compartment in his armour and produced a few chits, which he counted out and placed on the counter in front of the clerk, who pocked them without so much as glancing at them. “Enjoy.” He said, leaving Tonka to the container. Unscrewing the lid, the hard scent struck Tonka, and he knew immediately it was the legitimate deal. He assumed the clerk used fuel canisters for no other reason than they were easy to buy in bulk and carry around. Hefting the container, Tonka headed out into the streets for the lengthy walk back to the ship.

As he approached the foot bridge he’d passed over earlier in the day, three turian children barred his path, complete with ratty clothing and predatory stares. Trying to step around them, the children moved to bar his passage. “Beat it,” he growled. “You’re not getting anything from me.”

They didn’t respond with words, instead rushing at Tonka, who stepped back out of reflex and nearly tripped over another kid, a human one this time, who had knelt behind him while the older children pushed Tonka with a force that would have made a linebacker proud. Trying to regain his footing, Tonka stumbled and suddenly, grabbing hands yanked the ryncol out of his own and the kids took off at a run. Cursing loudly, Tonka gave chase, charging through the streets after the three kids, who turned the corner and ten more, mostly turians but with a few oddballs like a pair of batarians, another human and a young krogan, ran out at Tonka, deliberately barring his path. “Damn you, I don’t want to clobber you little shits!” He shouted, when suddenly several of the kids were jumping up on the krogan, handing off of anywhere they could get purchase. He tried to pry them off as he continued marching forward, the kids latched around his ankles like cement boots. Struggling but finding his adversaries terrifyingly persistent, Tonka began to thrash about, and throw himself into objects to dislodge the children who were clinging to him and pounding him with fists and rocks. “Fucking… stop!” He pleaded, grabbing one off of his shoulder and hurling him to the ground and another he grabbed by the arm and torso, pulling them tight.

Staring at the child with furious green eyes, Tonka shouted, “You’re going to tell me where your little pyjak friends went with my ryncol, or I’ll rip your damn arm off!”

The assault stopped, the children no longer piling upon him like a varren pack. The kid in his grasp began to cry, and soon a tiny voice called, “There’s the bad man who tried to take Varvus away!” One of the little shits was leading a parade of angry looking adults behind him. This did not bode well.

“Get away from him, you creep!” A woman shrilly yelled at Tonka, her mandibles flapping furiously as she charged him with a cooking skillet, smashing it across his face, the skillet still burning hot as it smashed him across the face, prompting Tonka to lash out in a reflex, smashing the turian woman in the face with an armoured fist, knocking her to the ground hard.

“YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT, KROGAN SCUM!” A man shouted, and soon Tonka had a serious crowd gathering. He groaned, trying to step away from everyone approaching. “It’s not what it looks like!” he pleaded, before deciding that he was proper fucked if he stayed. Suddenly taking off with an angry mob at his heels, Tonka charged through the thin part of the crowd, barreling through the break in the crowd and hoping none of them thought to bring a gun. When he managed to break free of the crowd, he breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t find himself suddenly ridden with bullets. It was Omega, afterall; pretty much everyone owned a gun out of necessity.

Managing to run into a distant market district, Tonka swerved around a corner and ducked behind an empty stall and activated his tactical cloak, fading from few as the primarily turian lynch mob approached, giving the krogan precious few minutes to duck his pursuers and head in quite the opposite direction. Doubling back to where he left the kids, Tonka caught sight of them as they disappeared around a building. Giving a stealthy pursuit, even after his tactical cloak expired, Tonka found the kids gathering in the outskirts of the district in a rough-hewn walled section that might have had been scheduled for expansion in the asteroid at one part, but interest or lack of growing population halted it. A bunch of kids gathered around a burning barrel fire, looking like they were a bunch of street orphans.

In other circumstances, Tonka might have had sympathy with their plight and banditry, but today was not that day. Besides, he was doing them a favour by saving them from liquor that would certainly kill them, wasn’t he?

Activating his cloak again, Tonka charged the pair of turian kids he’d been following, grabbing them by their shirts and picking them up to loud, surprised protest. Tonka hurled these kids at the assembled group, bodies smashing into each other as the child projectiles landed in a groaning heap, giving Tonka a clear path to his ryncol. Not breaking his stride, Tonka slid his feet to slow his pace, grabbed the container by the handle, and ran as fast as he could go until his cloak broke, giving the screaming and shouting horde of angry orphans a glimpse of the krogan’s back as he escaped their vile lair and within a few minutes had a clear line to the docking bays, where the Borealis was perched like a bird of hope, and the krogan made his way up into the cargo bay ramp, hammering in the door code to gain access. Sliding the door closed as fast as possible, Tonka sighed in relief as he was spared the awkward conversation of why a grown krogan was beating children for sport. Composing himself, he walked through the hanger and found Serena and Khosin talking to each other, and the word chess popped out with more vigor and verbal vitriol to the krogan’s ears than the worst racial slur. He groaned loudly as he walked by the two of them. “You are such a nerd.” Tonka grumbled, heading up to the common area to unload his prized booty.

[Dervish]

A Collaboration between Mozombique and Dervinci

With the shopping out of the way, Iosif was of a mind to to do another checkup on the scrapheaps sitting in the cargo bay of the Borealis. From what he'd seen of Tanya so far, she probably had more of an idea of how things were going with them and so he decided to head down there for a chat. Besides, after the shit-show they'd been through in the mines, he could've made worse company.

Instead of finding Tanya buried in the guts of some machine, Iosif would find her sitting on a stool behind a paint easel, a container with a half dozen kinds of brushes submerged in filthy water and a few small cannisters of paint lined in a slot off to the side. Her music was playing, although at a much more subdued volume, and she was utterly engrossed in her work. Seeing the metal-armed man approach in the corner of her eye, Tanya looked over at Iosif for a moment before turning back to the canvas. "What can I do for you? I don't have any of the parts for the ship yet, those are getting delivered in the morning so now's just the waiting game. Doing okay after the mission?" she asked, cleaning her brush before applying more paint to the bristles.

Iosif raised an eye at seeing the ship's mechanic hard at work on a painting, of all things and it was mildly amusing to hear that god-awful music in the background, too. "I'm fine, yourself?" he asked, before continuing. "Made a trip for fuel with Dex and picked up some new VI software in the meantime, so that won't be a concern. I actually wanted to come and check up on things here with you, see if any of the rigs down here are servicable."

"Better, I suppose. Serena and I have a bunch of parts that can make the ship operate a bit smoother, and we'll be able to do some heavy work in the shop here once we get that hoist mounted. Right now, my hands are kind of tied, no parts, can't work. In theory you could take the hauler out for a spin, but I wouldn't recommend it. A few of the parts have severe structural problems and while I've patched up the fuel line, we still need a new one before I feel strictly comfortable driving it around. Why do you ask?" Tanya asked, eyes locked on the task at hand.

"Could be useful to have them up running in the future, especially if we start taking on jobs on some of these outback worlds." Iosif remarked, before musing, "Anyways, never took you for a painter. Mind if I took a look?"

Tanya gestured invitingly for Iosif to have a look. On the canvas was a distinct outline of a varren, still without features filled in, in an old-fashioned suit holding a leash. "He'll be walking a krogan when all's said and done. Still debating if he needs a monocle or not. But yeah, I've been painting for quite a while now. I dabbled in it as a girl, I use it as something of an escape after, well, Mindoir." Tanya sighed, cleaning her brush before crossing her arms protectively. "Look. I wanted to apologize for how the mission went down. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Despite having come down here with a serious conversation in mind, Iosif couldn't help but relinquish an amused snort at the sight of a varren in formal wear. "Monocle would dignify him," he nodded in approval at her suggestion, before grunting. "Honestly? You handled things pretty well, all things considered. Besides, the others didn't exactly catch on and I was too busy keeping the truck in motion to notice."

Her face grew heavy and she ground the ball of her foot against the floor. "No, I didn't. I froze up, nearly didn't come back from it. I put everyone else in danger because I thought I was okay and could face it all again." tears began to well up in Tanya's eyes, which she wiped away with a swift forearm, unintentionally marking her face with paint, leaving a dark smear across her cheek and nose. "I still face what I saw at Mindoir every day, when I sleep, when I see batarians... and usually I can keep it at bay by working or otherwise distracting myself. I try to act like nothing gets to me, but every day's a battle, and sometimes like today... I lose. Hard." she looked up at Iosif, her face taunt and eyes wide. "How... how do you manage? I know you were there... I know what those monsters did to you. How do you cope with it all?

Hearing her words made him feel a phantom itch on the back of his neck, that made him reach around and rub at his tattoo. "You've seen it, then?" Iosif twisted his head for a moment to give her a glance of the numerals given to him at the labour camp. Sometimes he'd given thought to burning it off, but at the same time it served as a reminder to him of what he'd endured. Like a badge of honour.

"I noticed. Same tattoo I've seen on far too many people... too many I couldn't do shit for. I moved on best I could, but things keep coming back and bringing me right back to where I was, and I've relived those days more times than I can count." Tanya said with a long sigh. "I mean, the Alliance is supposed to be powerful, and should be able to protect its colonies, right? We couldn't even dislodge a few fucking slavers without heavy loses, and in the end, it didn't matter. I couldn't believe in the Alliance any more after that, just like they gave up on me. So... here I am, in the ass end of space working the saddest line of work I can imagine. I'd give anything to have a good night's sleep."

"The Alliance," Iosif paraphrased with a disgruntled snort, [color=steelblud]"Is only powerful when it's convenient. Who cares about a few backwater colonies, filled to the brim with yokels, when they can engage in a flexing-contest with the Turians? But to hell with it, neither of us want to talk politics - that's why we wound up in this line of work, right?"[/color]

Iosif shrugged. "To answer your earlier question: Hatred kept me going for a while, if I'm honest, he said, curling his cybernetic palm into a fist. "I wanted to live and carry on with my life out of spite for those four-eyed fuckers and for the backstabbing lizard who put me in that position to begin with..."

[color=steelblue]"That, and collecting model ships. Though I'm currently short of a collection."[color] He remarked, with a faint chuckle.

Tanya shook her head. "I can't imagine what it was like for you. I always saw that galaxy as a place with limitless potential, some way for us all to move past where we came from and start over. Even after my father was killed in the First Contact war, I didn't hate the turians... it was just what happened in war. I guess I knew how fucked up things could be, but never really understood it all until Mindoir. After that, it's hard not to look at everyone and everything in the galaxy through a lens of cynicism. Not a lesson I wanted to learn, but here I am." she said, before smiling at Iosif's hobby.

"And models? Goes to show how much any of us know about each other. I guess you had to do more than polish your arm all day and overdue the grease points. You always have a thing for models, or was this a recent fascination?"

"It's been a long-running hobby of mine. I used to watch the shipyards on Lowell as a kid, it gave me a more of a taste for ships with each fighter, bomber and gunship that I pieced together. I had a nice Turian Naval collection back before..." he hesitated. Before the salarian fucked things. "Certain circumstances forced me to set it aside. At any rate, it's something to pass the time with when I'm not busy assisting Dex in keeping this thing in one piece, or, polishing my arm." That last one was said with a chuckling tone.

"Well, maybe we'll find some hobby shop to keep growing your collection while we're here." Tanya said with a smile. "I never had much of an interest in ships, truth be told. I loved racing, and fixing up and tuning personnal vehicles. Speaking of Dex, you two getting on alright? The cockpit's too cozy for my tastes."

"Wasn't much of a call for racing where I came from, but I can appreciate the alure of the cockpit. Nothing quite emphasises 'freedom' like having wings. Anyway, our pilot's good, knows what she's doing as well - she'll do fine with me."

"And not resentful she's the main and you're her backup?" Tanya asked, curious.

"What, do I look like an asari?" Iosif gestured to the back of his head, in reference to their crests. "Having two competent pilots available is good and besides, if we're serious about getting some work out there I suspect we'll need two pairs of hands in separate places."

Tanya snorted. "No, asari tend to be very pushy when it comes to taking charge. It's like being the people who found the Citadel and started galactic civilization gave them a blank cheque to be extremely demanding." she said, returning to her painting. "Two pairs of hands in separate places? Are you talking about another ship?"

"Another ship, or a gunship, or a shuttle - anything."

"We'd be hard pressed to fit much in this hanger. A shuttle, maybe... but those don't tend to come cheap. Might have to steal one." Tanya suggested with a shrug. "So, before all of this, what did you do for a living?"

"After I'd finished with the Alliance? Same as this, really. Freelance work, with a crew. Smaller than this one, there were... three of us." He paused for a moment there, as if he were considering something. "Had a decent stint as a pilot, throwing in air support and transportation along with my boots on the ground when they were needed."

"You?"

"I tried to move back home... didn't pan out well with mom. She didn't like the person who came home. Whoops." Tanya rolled her eyes, but her face tightened at the mention. "So, after a few months of living on my own without much aim and realizing a regular job would be impossible for me to really appreciate or hold down, I started looking at classified ads for captains looking for crew. You know the rest. I just treat this like a military op with a looser set of dress and deportation and absolutely no supervision that can stop me from painting a dinosaur that vaguely resembles Hazan terrorizing people or filling every third cup in the kitchen with dead insects I found off some questionable grocer. Don't tell anyone and I'll send you the the video recordings of the reaction." she grinned, setting down her brush. The monocle on the varren did look rather fetching.

That solicited another amused snort from Iosif. "Sure, wouldn't mind seeing the batarian shit their pants, but remind me not to eat anything from the kitchen." He flexed his palm once more, leaning in to get another look at the painting. Yep, he definitely wouldn't have minded having something like that around as a decoration. "If we were on Lowell, I'd have half a mind to stop by my old man's office and hang it up. Look on his face would be priceless. At any rate, it's better than the feel-good 'embrace eternity' slop that the asari like to push as 'art'."

Things were starting to come together. The crew seemed competent, the ship was theirs and in a strange way, he got a certain feeling of homesickness that he'd not felt in a long time. "I almost miss my old ship," he remarked, "Smaller than this and not much better off, but it was home enough."

Tanya grinned at Iosif. "Well, if you're partial to it, I was going to put it on my portfolio and sell it online, but I can part ways with it if it makes you that happy. Did you lose your old crew because of," Tanya asked, awkwardly gesturing to the back of her neck, where Iosif's barcode was tattooed. She bit her lip and looked away, embarassed. "Sorry, I know I shouldn't pry about that shit... I'm sure it's like opening wounds every time someone mentions it, sometimes I speak before thinking."

"No." Iosif felt an urge to scratch the back of his neck again. "This happened because of one of my crew. Not the quarian, the other one. Salarian. Long story." And not boozed up enough to go into the nail screeching details. Instead, Iosif waved off her apology. "You weren't to know. Besides, the barcode doesn't bother me. Keeps me on my toes, teaches others that I'm not worth the trouble."

"Like our batarian associate."

Tanya shook her head. "He's... not bad, and I say that as someone who can't walk down a street without feeling like I'm about to fight for my life when I pass by a batarian. Every fucking day is a struggle to try and fight against that feeling, and to force myself to remember that not every batarian aren't like the guys we just took out. Khosin was right in the middle of it all with the rest of us, even to the point he over extended himself and well... I acted. He's probably alive because of me. Instead of letting the slaver do him in, or turning my shotgun on him, I reacted and saved a teammate. For a few moments, I forgot what he was and just saw a squadmate who needed help." she said softly, staring down, her neck flush.

"I don't think I'll ever be okay again, Iosif, and I don't think you will be, either. Not after what we've both seen and been through. Every day I think about this little blonde girl, couldn't have been more than six or seven, she was wearing this red dress, and even though we were pinned down, she tried to run to us, to get away from the slavers. Every day, I see her get pulled down into a trench and a bladed arm tear open her throat as she screamed." Tanya said, her voice raising in pitch, strained. Her fists clenched, white knuckles pressing against her skin. Her eyes were red, tears welling.

"I ask myself every time, why didn't I run to save her, because I would have died doing it? Because I was too much of a coward to save a life of a girl who was braver than I'll ever be? I never have an answer... and every day, I watch her die over and over again. The same day, I watch Lewis' head explode from one of those Kishock rifles, and I'm covered with parts of a man who I thought of as family. They're dead, and they were reduced to bloody statistics because so many others died for nothing!" Tanya was nearly shouting, and she stood up suddenly, shoving her stool away from her. Teeth gritted she paced with arms crossed tightly across her chest, not trusting her hands. It took several agonizing minutes for her to speak again.

"Look, I know all too well what batarians did to people whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I never know if I'll have the strength to face them again. I have to, no, need to see Khosin as a person, to remind myself that he wasn't one of the monsters who haunt me. If I can't force myself to at least try to give him the same respect as any of the others because he happens to be a batarian, then what the fuck am I doing on this ship? I'm a liability if I can't put my shit aside and give him a chance, when the only thing he did wrong was be born on the wrong planet."

Iosif kept silent while Tanya drew her own demons off her chest. It was... strange, to say the least. Almost theraputic in a manner of speaking, her words were in some ways comforting to him. It was good to be affirmed that he wasn't the only one - to hear it from another reliable voice.

She was right. He wouldn't be the same again. Not broken, though. Just changed. For her, it was the girl, the colonies - the horrors of war. For him, it was the bitter memories of betrayal - of the agonising months spent toiling away in the mines, bearing witness to and experiencing the brutality of the enemy first-hand.

It was only fair that he spoke up about it.

"I've... I can't forgive or forget what was done to me. Maybe... maybe you're right. Perhaps the batarian isn't like the rest of his vile race of pirates and slavers..." His palms were clenched tight as a vice. "Perhaps he is. Time will tell."

Tanya shook her head slowly. "Trust me, I get it. We don't have to be friends with Khosin, but the only way this whole crew is going to work is if we learn to trust one another. Besides, maybe having him around can help me see a better side to batarians and help me but some of this shit behind me, you know? As long as he keeps shooting the bastards who destroyed our lives, I think he's a cause worth fighting for." she said, sighing as she resumed her work. "Sorry about unloading on you like that. It's just weird having someone to talk to about this shit that actually understands it. Everyone here is fucked up in their own special way... I just am glad I have someone I can relate to in a way that matters."

He shrugged. "I suppose. As I said, time will tell." His tone was a little dismissive, though in truth it was good to hear her speak. They might not've seen eye to eye on the matter of the batarian, but for all intents and purposes this conversation had cemented a little faith in his colleague. "And I think," Iosif began, with a thin smile, "We're all fucked up. Why else would we dirty our hands with this business?"

"Sure as shit isn't the pay." Tanya grinned. "I don't know about you, but trying to do normal civvie shit is insufferably boring after you get a taste for flying through the stars and picking fights with the galaxy's worst scum. I wouldn't last in an office a week before I, I don't know, came to work with a shotgun and some flashbangs and started fortifying my cubicle. What about you, why this? I can think of a dozen other jobs someone with your qualifications would make a killing at."

"You make a good point," Iosif remarked, scratching his thumb and index finger together. "Because I intend to live my life on my terms." His tone suggested that it was the only answer she'd yield from him and one that would've opened up more skeletons. Well, not exactly skeletons - last Iosif had heard, his parents had ascended the ladder at R&D on Lowell and the old man was now the Research Director, but he wasn't interested. They'd made their choices a long time ago.

"Anyway... once we're off this floating carcass, where next?" he asked, rather pointedly, as if she were the one making the call. "Assuming we make a stop by Terra Nova, what's our destination after that?"

Tanya shrugged. "Not my call, I'm not the captain, no matter how much Serena wants me to be. If we get any contract offers, I have it set to go to a temporary address that forwards it all to each of us." She said. As if God was paying attention and felt like creating one of those improbable coincidences, her omni-tool beeped, and Iosif's dead moments later. Activating her omni-tool, Tanya surveyed the message and the new contract, she quietly filed it away in a seperate folder. "Well, might as well ping the crew to be down in the common area in fifteen." she said, gathering up her materials and hopping off her stool. She stood for a moment, as if lost in thought. Turning to Iosif with a nod, she offered him a fleeting smile. "Hey, good talk. I needed that." she said, turning to store her painting supplies away.

"Yeah, good talk. Meet you down there." Iosif nodded, heading off to the common area to get a head start on the rest of them. Though he never said so, it felt as if their conversation had done him some good as well.

[Sundered Echo]

A collab by Sundered Echo and Fallenreaper

When Serena, Dex, and Iosif had dropped off Vellios, with Sarah left behind to run scans. Her blue lights rotated from his crest to his toes, his figure slumbering across the medical bed during the examine. Sarah discovered numerous wounds from fractures on his arm, ribs, and several bruises across his surface but none were life threatening. They caused incredible pain when he finally woke up.

Vellios’ eyes edged open, blinking against the harsh light beating down from above him. His talon raised to instinctively shield his eyes only to flood with fresh hurt drawing a sharp inhale and a hiss from him. His carapace was slightly dark grey in appearance thanks to the paleness in his appearance. Sheets were pooled at his waist, through his clothes hadn’t been touched, as he leaned over to the side. Thankfully his stomach was empty or the floor would’ve been covered in acid. Gingerly, his head looked about and drew a conclusion to his whereabouts: the medical bay. Carefully he rose upright in his bed, cradling his arm as he twisted his body to prepare to stand upright. Deep down he knew it was a shitty decision but today was full of those, so one more wouldn’t make a lick of difference.

He touched the floor with his foot and been about to apply more pressure when the sounds of the door caused him to jerk back into his laying position. When his mandibles smirked upon seeing Kasyra gliding into the room, he was reminding they no longer had any medical personnel on board after Alex had left and the Quarian was the closest any of the dextrose had to one. He couldn’t say it was all bad being injured now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kasyra said angrily as she saw the Turian trying to get up. She’d scarcely had time to set up her food purifier when the injured Vellios had returned. She then had to search through the as yet unsorted medicines and find some tools before she could tend to him. Now she had finally come back to the medical bay and he seemed like he thought he could leave already.

“Dont stand up. If you fall on the ground i’m going to leave you there.” She might technically be the medic, but she had no desire to be, and it showed in her bedside manner.

“I was trying to test my ability to stand and evaluate how bad my injuries were. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting your sweet ass to walk in and play doctor.” There was a hint of teasing in Vellios’ serious comment, seeming to overlook her irritated tone, as he paused in his attempt to stand. His eyes studied the Quarian’s figure, absorbing the image before he carefully readjusted back onto the bed. He had little doubt she would’ve looked him over on the floor and walked out, something he wasn’t about to allow since getting back up was a pain in the ass.

“I suppose you’ve done several times?”

“My preferred treatment method is not getting injured in the first place, but yes. I have, from time to time, fixed up Turians and Batarians. Even a Human once. They’re very strange on the inside.”

“Sadly, the Krogan had other ideas and I had to get my armor repaired somehow. However, I can tell you right now and with certainty that Krogans aren’t any better. Those redundant systems are very much like thick, gooey webbing on their muscles. Any slices have to be very deep and right across.” Vellios commented, seeming not disturbed by Kasyra’s reveal.

“Take your shirt off.” She stated matter of factly, picking up a scanning tool and plugging it into her omni-tool. “I’ve always found that Krogans don’t much like it when you put a blade through their joints. Particularly a supercooled one. Then while they’re crippled, fill them with disruptor ammo. Not the quickest kill, but satisfying.”

Vellios smirked at the conversation as he heard her make an order, his talons reached to pull off his velcro like fastener and casually pull his arms through his sleeves. “There’s no such thing as a fast way to kill a Krogan. I’ve tried, and failed to find one. You can only limit the damage you get and increase the damage you can deliver.”

The turian stated, then tossed his crumpled shirt to the end of the bed. “Personally, I tend to overload their redundancy systems which slows them down and makes it easier to get up close and personal. Then I cut off their head plate. Granted, this usually is the result and the prime reason I don’t often tangle with Krogans.”

Kasyra ran the scanner wand up and down Vellios’ body, observing the feedback on her omni-tool. She was silent for a moment as she noted the extent of the damage. Mostly it was bone damage and bruising. “You’re lucky nothing important was damaged. But you’re not going to be doing anything physical for a while.” She said authoritatively.

“Your ribs are a mess and your arm is broken. You’ll be getting a chest brace and your arm is going in a splint. Then I’ll clean up some of the worse cuts.” She spoke with a deadly serious tone, though she was mostly giving him the bulky chest brace because she thought it’d be funny to see him in it. She did realise though, that if she didn’t he’d likely not obey the rest period she was about to instate on him and exacerbate his injuries. She immediately went to start having the various structural supports fabricated by the meagre medical facilities they had on hand.

“Is that really needed? It’s not exactly my first time having my bones broken and I’m still alive today. After all, taking on a Krogan tends to make it hard to stay intact so if I let every broken bone stop me, I likely wouldn’t be the survivor I am today.” Vellios smiled as he tried not to winch on the movement, his head following her path to the fabricator. Part of him was tempted to dip into his ‘medication’ despite the Quarian tending to his wounds, merely to taper off the injuries’ pain level. However there was two issues: his meds were back in his room and he had a limited supply before he got them replenished, which reminded him to ask Serena to collect his winnings and do that.

“Yes.” Kasyra said sharply. “Because if one of your fractured ribs ends up damaging any internal organs when you exert yourself, you’ll just have to hope there are some charitable doctors in whatever port is closest at the time… Because I’m no surgeon.”

“You just need to know a lot about anatomy, something I learned putting myself back together on numerous occasions. As for internal damage, I can do a temporarily patch and usually hope for the best anyway. If I die, I had a good run.” Vellios stated, shrugging it off as he leaned back into his bio-bed. His unwounded arm pulled up to cushion his head back as he relaxed. “Not sure why you’re worried about it as I thought it never bothered you before. It’s not like we’re lacking muscle around here and that’s primarily what I am. The only one that mourn my death would be Serena.”

“Exactly. And as the ships dextro medic, I would never hear the end of it.” Kasyra joked wryly. “Besides. Good muscle is hard to come by. I’d rather not end up alone on this ship because all the muscle got themselves killed. Someone needs to draw the enemy's fire.” Her tone was such that it would not be clear if she was joking or not. In truth, she was not sure if she was joking or not.

“Not the first time someone used me as bullet bait, after all. It seems a talent I have. One among many and it’s nice to hear you care in a roundabout way. I admit, I missed you.” Vellios admitted, his mind reflecting inwardly on the past for a moment then brushed it aside. [color= rosybrown] “Also, do you still remember how to make that dextros roast? The one with the phellix, orin and sagei season?”[/color]

“Of course I do.” Kasyra started, taking the cast for his arm and beginning to aggressively fit it. “I even bought the ingredients while you were off getting yourself beaten senseless…” There was a click as the cast fastened itself around his arm These things were largely very simple to do with modern technology, something Kasyra was thankful for. “And I will happily make some for all the dextro’s on the crew… If you manage to avoid making your injuries worse before they heal.”

“I can’t promise that sadly. Luck doesn’t always seem to be on my side and best if I don’t. It’s what you get with me.” Vellios stated honestly, his tone strained through the pain dancing up his arm. It took a serious amount of effort not to jerk his arm back and make the injury worse, incurring Kasyra’s wrath to follow it. He did drop the smile as it was the most difficult to keep while enduring the hurt.

“Well, I can't promise any roast then…” Kasyra finished with the cast and moved onto the chest brace. “Still happy I’m the medic and the cook?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. She wasn’t particularly trying to be malicious, she was just a firm believer in keeping the team in fighting condition by any means necessary.

“There’s military rations as I know you’re not going to deny me food period. It would defeat your purpose and only harm the team, which as much as I hate it I have gone a long time without your cooking.” Vellios pointed out then tried to move his arm, the joint not hinder as it only covered his forearm rather than his whole arm. His other talon tapped it gently while the skin started to itch slightly underneath as on cue from his tampering. [color= rosybrown] “How in hell do aliens tolerate this?!?”[/color]

“They don’t. They all complain. Every one of them. I usually tell them to try and not break bones…” She began to affix the chest brace. “This one will be worse, believe me. I can't really relate though. I can't touch my skin outside of a clean room.”

Vellios shifted his figure to the side, delaying the thing being fixed to his chest as the brush made him flinch. Owww. I prefer to be able to breath rather than struggling, if you don’t mind. So mind if we skip the cast on the chest and trust me not to make it worse? Personally, the arm cast is bad enough.”

“You just told me I couldn’t trust you. So the cast is definitely going on. You’re not getting out of it, I’ll zap you if I have to.” Kasyra expected that in the future he might just decide to tough it out rather than come to her for medical help. But then, it wasn’t her fault if her patients didn’t want to be helped…

“Please? I like breathing and it’s only a few busted ribs, so a wrap will work. Trust me, I’ve had that before and it’s worked out fine.” Vellios pleaded a little as he looked toward the edge, considering what it would mean if he merely slipped off and ducked behind. Especially if it would be worth the aftermath.

Kasyra just looked at him sternly for a moment, before stepping forward with the brace.

Vellios sighed, realizing she was going to likely be true to her word as he braced for the cast. “Fine. Keep in mind, it wasn’t my idea to nearly get killed.”

A skeptical sounding ”Uh-huh” Was her only reply.

After she put it on, he slouched in the bed then looked at her. His tone was playfully teasing as he commented on the rest, his body still hurting from the cast placement. “Feel better you won, now?”

”Yes, I am happy that I have been allowed to properly care for my patient.” Kasyra stated. ”Shall I fix those up?” She said, pointing at his various cuts. ”Or are you eager to escape your tyrannical doctor now?” She added with a hint of mirth.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. It’s about the only thing going for you at this moment as your bedside manner needs work.” Vellios stated, trying to fake a pout and avoid looking at the Quarian.

Kasyra smiled, knowing full well he couldn’t see the expression. Then she turned to take the table with the tools she would need and casually brushed her hand by it, causing some of them to clattering to the floor. ”Oh, how clumsy…” She muttered then bent over to pick them up, deliberately gathering them one at a time.

Naturally, a male impulse overcame him and his eyes wandered to observe her curvy ass. Through the chest cast made it hard to bend at the right angle so he had to improvise, his arm gripping one of the bed’s sides so he tilt his whole body over the bed’s edge. It creaked softly, likely enough for her to hear, while he smirked not caring for the moment if he fell onto the floor. The view would be so worth it.

Standing and turning back, she didn’t say anything, even though she noticed the glint in Vellios’ eyes. She began suturing up his injuries wordlessly.

“You know, a little chatter isn’t a bad thing. It might distract your patients and help you get done more effective, it’s also considered part of bed manner. What have you been up to since we last saw each other?”

Kasyra stopped mid stitch. ”No.” Was all she said. She did not want to think about the past right now. She focused on the stitching, soon it’d be done and she could send this troublesome Turian on his way.

“Then you pick the topic, or I can finish this up. It’s not the first time and at least I’m not left bleeding on a ship’s hull.” His talons’ gently took the stitches from her hands, allowing her to escape. He knew he had hit a nerve with his last comment but he wasn’t fully aware of when or where, the reason eluded him. In this moment, his instincts stated it was best left alone for the present.

”Very well.” She said, letting him take the tools from her. ”I’ll check in on you in a few days, and put those back when you’re finished” She turned to leave then. He’d no doubt be stuck laying on the bed for a while, but braced as he now was, it wouldn’t be bad when he decided he could get up.

Vellios nodded but kept his mouth shut. He knew when it was best not to prod a bear, even a ice cold one, and focused on his stitches. With surprising delicate movements not fitting of his profile, he easily closed up the wounds bit by bit before placing the blue stained tools into the sink for Kasyra to clean later. Right now, he was too worn mentally to consider washing up at the moment and personally didn’t care. The nightmares would be the next hurdle to overcome now.

[DearTrickster]

Dex & Vellios - MedBay

@Fallenreaper & @DearTrickster
Feat. @Rtron Aka Party Pooper

---

Having taken some extra time to remove her armour and replace her gear where she found it, Dex was hopeful at least she wouldn’t need to touch it again until tomorrow at the earliest. She had a pilot’s console with her name on it to install the autopilot. Dreading a mountain of bullshit she’d have to tear through in order to install it. Knowing the minimal sleep she had the night before wouldn’t be solved after sleeping somewhere new. Years of bad sleeping habits made a full 8 hours of sleep nearly unattainable.

When the five of them returned with Vellios and Haze in tow, Vellios was shuffled into the capable hands of Kasyra to tend to his wounds. Giving Dex enough time to think about how she’d approach him over what she heard and saw. She felt she knew next to nothing about the turian, her conversation with Serena did nothing but raise more questions. Even with his generous invitation to ask him anything, she felt guilty for breaking her word about poking around in other crewmembers business. Given what she saw, it simply couldn’t be left alone. Her talons hovered over her predator pistol but decided against it, remembering distinctly that his wild behavior was involuntary. All she really needed to disarm was packing in her prosthetic fist. Nothing makes folks clam up faster than seeing a supposed confidant armed.

Taking a deep breath in through her nose she exited her bunk, kicking the door closed behind her as it struggled to slide close. Wearing just her black tank top and blue retrofitted pants, her mechanical arm now clean and perfect working condition. The tank top completely exposed her shoulders and the scars that stretched out from the mechanism. Making her way to the medbay to speak directly to Vellios.

Vellios was feeling much better after about a few hours nap, his figure was freshly washed of his own blood but still half naked with his lower part covered by his pants and sheets. A thick cast over his arm and his chest, limiting his movement. His head jerked upright to see who had entered the medbay as his mandibles wiggled in interest. He couldn’t help but take a moment to brush over Dex’s figure while he settled back into his bed. His hands folded across his waist and waited until she drew closer to his bedside causing him to speak. “What brings you here, Dex?”

Dex tried out a smile when she saw him. The casts supporting his rib cage while his arm was in one as well. Looking generally more aware than when they had helped him back to the ship. “Just checking in on one of the two dumbest turians on the ship.” Replying brightly.

“I wasn’t hired for my brains after all…” Vellios shrugged, his mandibles grinning from one side of his head to the other.

Settling at the bedside on a rickety old stool. still smiling, “I’m sure there’s something behind your crest. So what’s the damage?”

“Nothing major. I got a little...carried away in the fight and a few cracked ribs, sprained wrist, fractured arm and numerous bruises. Also monitoring me for a concussion. I’ve had worse.” He stated casually brushing off the wounds.

“A little? You and I are going to have to go over the definition of ‘little,’ Vellios.” She shook her head at him. Then a small laugh bubbled out of her. It was so easy to banter with him, his attitude was infectious in spite of her intentions for being there.

Vellios chuckled at her statement, enjoying that he had gotten her to laugh. She seemed to be put at ease with his musing and that was enough to make the pain he was suffering easy to ignore. However, he knew she didn’t come here to talk to him over his condition or she would’ve asked Kasy or Serena, both fully informed, rather than keep him from resting. His head leaned back while he studied her closely. “Jokes aside, why did you come to see me? I’m pretty sure you could’ve asked others about my condition so I assume it’s important.”

Her smile dimmed quite a bit when she replied, “I came to talk to you... because I don’t want to ignore it.” Bringing up her omnitool not giving him time to respond, she showed Vellios the screenshot she had from the security feeds. “Serena warned me of issues.” Her honey brown eyes shifted downward, “I’ll be honest, my first thought was divorce or the death of a parent. This…” She looked right into his icy bright blue eyes, “This is something much worse.”

The image she showed him was of Vellios elbow deep in the krogan’s skull.

Vellios’ smirk turned into a sheepish one. “Well, it might be better if you ask specifically what you want to know rather than expect me to tell you everything. I do recall you didn’t want to pry too much despite my invitation.”

His eyes studied the image displayed over her omnitool. It was strange to see his picture tearing into a krogan with a wild look in his eyes, his hand edging into the skull and trying to rip it apart. It took a lot to get him there but when he was, Vellios rarely recalled anything from the episode. His figure didn’t show the discomfort he was feeling currently as he listened to Dex’s attempt to clarify what she wanted to know.

“I want to understand what happened to you that makes you behave that way. This level of violence coupled with what Serena had said trying to snap you out of it. What the hell was she referring to?” Dex asked minimizing the window her mandibles twitching nervously.

“There’s a reason I have and need people to talk to me during a fight. The conversation keeps me grounded to the present and lack of it causes me to relive my past through vivid memories. Ones from a very, very shitty childhood. It’s the effect combat has on me.”

Dex nodded watching Vellios carefully. When it came to sharing sobering childhood trauma there was always room for embellishment or a lie. She wanted to trust Vellios, hell until a hours ago she wanted to sleep with him, but knew in her bones that terrible people came in so many different forms. If she hadn’t learned to have a healthy dose of skepticism her body would probably be either floating in space or buried in an unmarked grave. To doubt was never a slight upon the person but simply second nature.

Vellios inhaled, taking a breath and trying to soothe his anxiety. He wasn’t new to hiding things or keeping his cheerful, carefree state on the outside despite what he was feeling. However, it wasn’t easy. The turian was sure Dex wasn’t about to be satisfied with the answer he gave so he continued. “I grew up traveling from ship to ship with my mother, my childhood was fairly happy and carefree. That is until we were raided by pirates from a ship called Haides.”

His eyes glossed over in memory as he reached for a nearby glass, filled with water unfortunately, and took a sip. It wasn’t hard to recount all the details but he didn’t want Dex to grow uncomfortable. So he decided to keep the summary brief. “I was raised, after my mother’s death, on that hellish ship for about five or six years. You learned to survive or die as compassion and anything you learn in your past was ripped from you in the worst way.”

Instinctively, his hand reached behind his neck then started to scratch at the scars again. They bled a little bit at the reaction causing him to pull his fingers away upon feeling the warmth and wetness stain his talons. He stared at it a moment with a blank expression in his eyes and added. “They used old fashion batarian control collars for training the new recruits. Often making new ‘cabin boys’ stain their hands with blood before being brought on. Mine was my own mother’s as I could still see the scene playing in my head, over and over. What stuck out most was her relieved expression that turned in horror when she realized my fate.”

Dex’s expression was that of horror then it quickly changed when the name Haides rang a bell. “Hold on, you said Haides right? Wasn’t that the name of the ship from all those spooky stories. I remember hearing the same thing back when I was recruited into the military. Stories that were told to spook the recruits on their first night away from home. Those stories were… true?” Torn between a growing ache in the back of her throat for Vellios. Turning away racking her mind for those stories. Her expression showed how troubled she was while it hummed softly through her sub vocals, “If they’re true then how did you escape?”

Vellios nodded, broken from his spell. “The very same and yes. Though I’m sure the stories merely skimmed the horrors told as the experience was much more… real and cruel. As for my escape, I got lucky. The pirates had become reckless and someone seemed to have set some mercs on them, catching up in the night. I managed to kill Syberus before I made my way to a pod. Sadly, the bastard revealed something to me which proves I can never be fully free of him. I was picked up a few days afterwards by merchants then arrived at the Citadel.”

He tried to reach for a towel but failed, his body only able to comfortably raise halfway up. Exhaling in frustration, he asked for it. “Can you pass me something to wipe my talons off, please?”

“Yeah sure.” She said standing up from the stool walking around the gurney and passing him the towel.

Spirits, he had to kill his own mother. A blessing in disguise, if the pirates had kept her alive there was no telling when the horror would cease for her. Her inner cynic screeched to fact fucking check. The scars on his neck was what had her initially believing his story. The collars they had seen today on the mission were not the same but similar marks of stress were left behind on the slaves. Years spent in a Batarian control collar would result in some nasty scars.

Fucking pirates.

“What, if you don’t mind my asking, would tie you to the likes of Syberus? Blackmail you for piracy or something?” Dex asked remaining hopeful that it was simple. It was difficult to wrap her head around an old story being true.

“No, he was my father.” Vellios stated quietly, his eyes watching the towel wipe away the blue blood. His voice was surprisingly even when he said the word through the pain hit him deeply. It was hard to accept at first but after recalling Syberus’ image and their similarities, it was difficult to cast away now. Through he wished he could deny it.

Dex’s eyes closed she tried and failed to speak, rarely at a loss for words. Silence beat through his heavy statement lingering like the smell of smoke. Speaking to a survivor, someone who had experienced it first hand was a reality that confronted her own. She had family members alive and missing her while Vellios had none.

When she spoke up it was quiet and try as she did to be neutral, her inflection betrayed how she felt. “I’m sorry, Vellios. For what happened to you and your family. Syberus deserved worse than what he got. Death is too easy for the likes of him.” Taking a deep breath in she made eye contact with Vellios. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you told me about your childhood.”

Fuck fact checking, she believed him. She had seen this pain faked and portrayed poorly on stage but this was real. His freedom was taken away from him by violence while hers was taken by subterfuge. So rarely does the galaxy at large take into account an individual’s choice.

“We all have our issues. Some are just skin deeper than others. Though, honestly it wasn’t him I should’ve killed back on that ship and that result will forever haunt me.” Vellios spoke in a slightly hollowed tone and leaned back, his eyes closing a moment as his wife and two children darted across his mind. They were beautiful as the day they all died. “I need something to drink or my meds soon. Else I’m going to be a real pain to be around. And I forgot to locate a supplier... Fuck.”

Dex tilted her head when he was referred to someone else. As he was now looking drawn out from their conversation and his injuries Dex held her tongue. For now her curiosity was sated. “I can see if there’s anything to scrounge up in the kitchen, drinkwise. After our conversation you deserve it.”

Standing back up her expression was solemn. While she walked towards the exit her mind going in full force.

Vellios spoke just before Dex walked completely out. His voice calm and steady, almost impossibly serious for the reckless and charming turian. “Do me a favor, Dex. If I ever stop talking… especially in combat, then stay away. For your own safety. I’m not myself when it happens and I rarely recall it unless I force myself to.”

Lingering at the exit she thought on that then replied, “Losing control of your agency is the worst. It’s been a general theme for my life and I hate seeing it happen to people I like. I’ll keep your head straight, Vellios.” She promised tossing a look over her shoulder then managed a smile.

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here. I’m pretty sure I can’t go anywhere or far…” Vellios chirped in, his eyes opened to spy Dex’s cute ass wiggle out of the door. He couldn’t help but smirk at the view and how much he enjoyed it. He still wouldn’t have minded tapping that one day if it was possible.

Disappearing down the hallway stuffing her hands into her pockets. Entering the kitchen and shuffling through the cabinets looking for anything dextro friendly. A lot of new food and packets had disturbed the dust and as she shuffled through bending down to the sink she opened it up searching for hidey holes. Her talons brushed past a bottle taped under the counter and pulled it free. To her surprise it was turian wine, older than she was bottled back in 2135 CE. Tucking it under her arm she stepped up to the pantry and pulled free some small protein snacks. She had been a bit peckish and imagined after a fight Vellios must of been hungry too. Grabbing a pair of steel tumblers she carried on back to the medbay.

When Dex entered, she would find Vellios had finally risened from his bed and was standing upright. It had taken some time due to his condition. After all, the numerous fractures was causing him to flinch with each movement and twice he had to rest on the effort. He was in nothing but shorts plastered tightly to his curves as he tried to stretch, ignoring any need for bed rest, while he hissed in pain. The turian casually tried to stretch his leg out from the bed while his hand braced against the edge.

Old, numerous scars could be seen on the uncovered bits. It was easy to correctly assume they lined his back, front and across his limbs from untold encounters as a pirate, soldier, and now a merc. Most were faded for some time and with them, their memories were a haze recollection. During his stretch, Vellios’ middle growled in hunger. This made him consider requesting some dinner when he noted Dex walking into the room again with some dusty looking turian wine, tumblers, and a couple packets of Torick nuggets, a well known turian snack food made from a reptilian mammal native to Paleven. They were often prepackaged and used for rations in almost all military operations.

His eyes noted the color of the wine, a hazy red. It was clearly about a decade old as its liquid was murky and consistency was heavy. Younger wines were clear and lighter in their motion, their taste usually more commonly preferred since the older wines had a stronger, heavier copper taste. Fortunately, Vellios enjoyed when his beverage tasted a little on the ‘bloody’ side.

Stopping short at the door, flustered noises rumbled through Dex’s sub harmonics as her eyes tracked from top of his head down the length of Vellios’ body. Scars littered his body undoubtedly telling stories similar to the one he had fighting against the krogans in the fighting pit. Blinking rapidly and possibly drawing out her stare much too long. “Didn’t realize you were um... ” Dex said her eyes shifting up to the ceiling, “Indecent.”

Vellios smirked at Dex’s reaction. The female turian was so fun to frustrate, he realized as he chuckled softly at her reaction to his half nakedness. He stopped stretching for a moment and lingered at his bedside for a moment then spoke.

“A pretty thing like you, I doubt this is the first time you’ve seen a male half naked. If not, they clearly weren’t looking to see if you were spying.” Vellios flirted cheerfully while he propped up and upon bed side. It made a soft creak as he gradually leaned back into the bed.

I need to relax, I just finished imagining the horrors of growing up with pirates. My libido cannot distract me from being respectful. I’ve got principles and rules for a reason, not that I can remember any of them at the moment...

Keeping her head down, trying to hide a smile, she walked past him setting the tumblers onto the counter and going about opening the wine. Tossing the packets out as well. “Figured you’d be hungry too. Found this bottle under the sink in the kitchen.”

“Well, at least we know this rust bucket had a turian crew at one point else there would’ve been little reason to hide it. Through from the murky look, I would say it’s about… ten years or more?” He stated when he eyed the bottle in Dex’s hand, his head turned to watch her flirt over toward the nearest counter.

Eyeing the cleanliness of the tumblers one had dead bugs layered at the bottom. “Yuck.” Dumping the bugs into the garbage can and rinsing out the cup in the sink. Flicking the water out and shrugging.

Pouring the wine the acrid smell was rather strong though she had no plans to do much drinking if at all, “Try 2135 CE. It’s older than I am.” She replied squinting at the label before continuing, “Uh so… I can imagine you expect me to share something about myself in exchange.” She said with defeat. “I can’t say I’m enthused to volunteer personal things but it would be what is fair.”

Vellios shrugged in response. “The world’s not fair, why act like it is? I made the invitation, not you, and I merely followed through in it. What you decide to do next is up to you with no strings attached. You don’t want to share, then don’t.”

Stopping mid pour, gently the bottle was placed back on the counter. Her expression was of shock then transitioned slowly to something warmer. Turning around to face him leaning against the counter, folding her arms. “I do enjoy arrangements with no strings or commitments.” She said flirtatiously. Reinforced by the apparent interest humming in her sub harmonics. There was nothing wrong with flirting, the self imposed sex embargo could permit it. “I’m surprised that you would say that. I haven’t enjoyed that level of freedom for years now. It’s…greatly appreciated.”

The reason he gained from Dex merely deepened his casanova grin, his eyes holding on her face where the most sensitive parts were in easy access. He wondered, for a moment, what it might be like to touch it. What reaction might he get? “It makes life easier when both parties know they don’t have to commit and have the freedom to take it as far as they both feel comfortable taking it. My childhood taught me that freedom was a gift and not to exercise it was a pity. No offense intended, but from your statement, I’m surprised you stopped.”

His eyes broke from hers and panned around for a seat, noticing there wasn’t… immediately available. Using that to his advantage, he wiggled carefully to one side of the single bed then patted his hand down for her sit.

I’m not going to make it a week much less the next few minutes.

Her eyes tracked to where he was patting then shrugged lightly resigning herself, she’d have time to regret her decisions later. She finished pouring the wine and passed him a tumbler along with a packet of food. Taking a seat beside him she sipped on the wine it tasted like it was definitely older than she was. Coppery but heavily aromatic of native Palaven fruits.

“I do usually but the past few months have been rough. Aimless and restless. With new work lined up it’s given me a very firm reminder, that I have needs to take care of.” She leaned on the back of her right hand fixing Vellios with a sultry look. In her left she held the tumbler.

“It’s part of what makes you realize you’re a living, breathing creature in the end. Aliens often forget the importance of baser needs and neglect them, never considering it can be pleasurable with the right partner.” He took a sip of his wine from the tumbler then let the coppery taste burn his tongue. It was nice considering his earlier exploits and helped to ease his pain, numbing it a bit. His hip slid to press slightly against Dex as luckily the space was narrow enough. He doubted she would’ve complained about the closeness.

“I’ll drink to that.” Her smile growing as he slid closer. Briefly wondering if the casts would slow her down. Probably not.

He carefully opened a packet then dipped in for a nugget. He popped it in his mouth and savored the taste, enjoying it filling his mouth. It wasn’t as good as Kasyra’s cooking but it was filling at least. He was debating on how to present his offer skimming on his attention without making Dex sound like a slut or him taking pity, both facts that weren’t accurate. Like many females, he found her attractive and wanted to explore it in a deep way like any male would.

“Though, know if you’re ever interested in getting some of them filled than I would be honored to help. However, it’s on your terms.”

She couldn’t help but grin at his offer pleased as hell while the cynic in her head groaned unhappily. She only had one thing on her mind now, her libido conveniently clearing up all the space for it. It seemed Vellios shared the sentiment as well.

“You know, I think I just might. ” She said quietly with a low hum of interest locking eyes with him. “Let’s help each other out.” Taking another sip watching his reaction over the lip of the steel.

Vellios’ arm moved over her shoulders, then squeezed lightly in understanding. His smirk never left while the attraction heated within his core and victory pooled in the back of his mind, his eyes light with both excitement and hungry at the foreplay. “You merely just need to give the green light and I’ll do the rest as long as you want it.”

She chuckled lightly, the anticipation bubbling out. Pressing up against him while her organic arm wrapped to settle on his waist. “I don’t know, are you up for that challenge? I’m not so easily satisfied.” Feeling a churning in the back of her mind, her body heating at the prospect while her eyes just got lost in the brightness of his. She really was a sucker for bright eyes. For Vellios he happened to fit the ticket for everything else. Looks, charm and freedom. It was as if the galaxy was doing her a solid, for once.

The black carapace turian’s eyes widened in accepting the challenge as he leaned, his mandibles nibbling at her neck then throat delicately to turn her on. His talons began to gently slide off any clothing that got into the way of his touch, his sub vocals purring and humming with enjoyment before he paused. His head tilted upward to answer her. “I’m a turian of multiple talents. Never once has any of my female partners ever left unsatisfied because unless they are pleased, I wouldn’t be. So consider your challenge accepted.”

Responding in kind at his enthusiasm Dex pushed herself into his lap allowing gravity press down and straddle with ease. “You better hold on tight, Vellios. I’m going to ride you until I’m sore.” She whispered her promise.

With those words, his attention returned to giving Dex the most affection and intimate moments that she deserved.

~~~****|****~~~

A long suffering sigh echoed through the medbay as Serena looked upon the two turians in the medbay. “Week long rule, huh?” She tsked, walking over to the two of them.

Vellios couldn’t help the smirk on his mandible as his head raised, Dex snuggling in the nook of his wrapped arm and slumbering softly in the wake against his chest cast. He swore she almost glowed after the experience which only boosted his confidence over being the one that caused it. “I had to feel pity toward her as it’s been months and I did let her set the limits. Though if you feel like you must blame someone, I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse and I’ll happily take that blame.”

“Oh, get that smirk off your face Vellios. It’s bad enough you broke her week long rule, encouraged it no doubt, but you had to do it in the medbay of all places? Really now. If you’re that healed up you could have at least stumbled to a bedroom for God’s sake.” Serena smiled at Vellios’s words. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m blaming both of you. Not for the sex, that was going to happen inevitably. For deciding to use possibly our only sterile room as your bedroom. Obviously, there must be a deterrent to ensure that you both at least keep your horniness behind bedroom doors. Del, deterrent protocol please.”

“It hasn’t worked yet… namely considering I’m still doing it where I can.” Vellios added and quickly slipped himself to create a barrier with his cast, and sheets between the protocol and Dex. He didn’t enjoy the idea of ruining Dex’s blissful sleep. At worse, he would take longer to heal and possibly get a cold. At best, he was just going to be sopping wet.

Her small drone, still missing a chunk of himself, flashed a green of acknowledgement, a small water bottle dropping down from him. “You remember this, don’t you Vellios? I used on that particularly clingy and jealous human girl you brought one time. She only got angrier the more Del sprayed her, but she eventually she got the message and stopped bothering me.” Serena tsked again. “Come now Vellios, you know this isn’t your deterrent so much as hers. You it won’t bother. Her it hopefully will. More than likely in fact.”

“Are you really sure? If it’s any help, I know a good sterilizing location on Omega, surprisingly, and will clean up the mess if you’re that worried. I’m pretty sure even a model this old has a sterilizing function.” Vellios flinched as his ribs hurt under the gel like cast, his figure leaned and his arm bracing himself upright twitched in irritation. Naturally he hadn’t felt anything when his mind was distracted but right now, he was fully focused on the pain in his ribs.

Del zoomed over, quickly analyzing the barrier Vellios had created, finding the gaps to spray in water and hit Dex. In a heartbeat, three streams of warm water had gone through the openings left by Vellios’ imperfect barrier, and hit Dex in the head, side, and armpit. Del paused in front of Vellios’ face, beeped somewhat cheekily, and sprayed Vellios in the face as well before retreating.. “Thank you Del.”

As soon as the water touched Dex a low guttural hiss surged from somewhere deep in her DNA. Sitting bolt upright threatening to nail Vellios in the nose with how fast she sat up, “FUCK!”

Her mandibles flared and eyes narrowed directly at the human mechanic, “SERENA!” Pushing away from Vellios and looking like very angry bird.

Serena waved cheerfully. “Hi Dex. Weeks fly by, don’t they?”

Vellis hissed in pain as he was pushed to the side, his face wet and body shivering from the cold water’s after spray. Sadly, little did the droid or Serena know was he had some cash he was considering sharing after he paid for his required repairs and now was considering merely stashing it away when Serena asked for repair money. He reached for a towel with some struggle as he considered how to dry himself off, his cast currently damp from the aftermath and ribs still hurting like hell since the morphine wore off. Thankfully the cast was a gel like material with enough stiffness to make movements slower but stop them all together. Gently he eased once more on his back and took a deep inhale.

Still rather indecent she had stopped herself from hissing in Serena’s face directly. “Not. Funny” Dex growled. “Why the fuck did you spray me with water!?”

“Del, grab some morphine for Vellios. Being horny evidently doesn’t dull pain.” The drone flew off before Serena smirked at Dex. “It’s rather simple. I call it the deterrent protocol. Every time I find you and Vellios having sex outside of a bedroom, and I’m sure you will be having a lot of it, Del will spray you in the face with water. If it gets really bad, I’ll have a drone specifically follow you around and just spray you every time you start undressing with Vellios outside the room. Don’t think you can hack it or destroy it either. Another turian female tried that when she didn’t get the message either. Just got a lot of Krogan porn and destroyed a few walls in our apartment at the time for her trouble. Really though. The med-bay? You couldn’t have at least stumbled to a room?”

Huffing angrily, ”I tried to restrain myself, I had come in here to chat and all of the sudden-” Dex glared making vague hand gestures, “You know? I mean look at him.”

“It wasn’t lack for trying really. I just kept getting wobbly trying to get to my room and things sort of took off from there. I can’t help it I’m naughty.” Vellios teased, he looked like a teenager caught red handed doing something he clearly shouldn’t have done. He also didn’t care since this wasn’t the first time Serena had walked in on him and his figure edged closer to the edge in the event that Dex came flying off the bed. He couldn’t allow a tumble now and piss off Kasyra once more.

Serena snorted. “I doubt you made it past the ‘sitting up’ stage.” She rolled her eyes at Dex. “Yeah, been with him for a while Dex. I’m sure he’s eye candy to you but, to me. Eh.” She shrugged. “It’s not that small, I guess.” She smiled at Vellios, as Del reappeared with the morphine. “Don’t go to crazy on this.”

“You act like I can’t regulate myself on my medications. If I was a druggie and a shitty one, I would’ve been dead a lot time ago. Not that I didn’t consider it before. Also, I’ve made efforts in getting off them but it’s not easy. And last time, if I recall, you ended up with a knife wound because of it.” Vellios stated, then looked away as he hid the guilt of that incident from being spotted quickly.

“You’re fine Vellios. You’ve already made up for it. I mean, if you really insist, I could always use a new droooone.” Serena half-teased.

Vellios thought a moment then replied. “If a hose down is all I get for finding my own way to heal… I’m not sure that’s in the budget for a while now.”

Dex’s ire had blown itself out in the wake of Vellios and Serena’s nonchalant attitudes. “We’ll disinfect the area.” She grumbled flopping back with defeat. “Ruined the perfect after-sex nap. I only had a total of 4 hours of sleep last night.” No longer caring if Serena saw anything she pulled back the sheets nude as she was shameless. Grabbing her pants then pulled them on.

Leaning back sitting on the edge of the bed still she planted a peck on Vellios’ cheek. “Thank you. You are exactly what I needed.”

“Cute butt. At least you didn’t wake the entire ship. And we’ve all run on low sleep. Talk to me when you’re getting ready for a fight after 24 hours of harsh defence. That was a fun little mission. ”

”I’ve had my own sleep deprivation training and starship warfare, ontop of years of stake outs. Trust me, I know.” Dex replied softening a bit now that she had calmed down. “My butt is cute, thank you.”

Vellios chuckled, not bothering to join in to the fight of who has less sleep and can still run. When they spent days tucked away in the exposed hull raptors of a ship, waking up hourly to feed savage, hungry varren pack below with scrapes of the rotting meat that was once a crew mate and still function than he would join. Until then, he wouldn’t even try. “You both are gorgeous, you know that?”

He then injected his arm with morphine, his figure shivering then relaxing some back into the bed. He didn’t even care if it was still wet from Del’s hose down. It was comfortable and still had the scent of sex lingering in it.

Smiling back at him, curious as to why he relied on medication but she figured it was to sleep. Probably save that question for another time. Now with the afterglow of sex thoroughly washed away she wanted to take a walk. ”I’ll get out of your recovery bed and leave you to it.” She said standing up then carrying on over to the cabinet and grabbing a new sheet. “Here.”

Pulling the wet sheet free she quickly replaced it with a the fresh one letting it settle over his figure. “Thank you, again. There will be a next time when you’re feeling better.” Dex promised. “Annnnd it’ll be in the safety of the bedroom.”

Shooting Serena a sheepish grin, “Honest.”

“Careful, giving me full rights,” Vellios playfully warned, “then you might never leave it.”

“Is that a promise?” She teased.

“For you, it is.” Vellios smiled, his good hand raised a talon to stroke under her throat and trail down to her collar bone. Making it tingle with his touch the whole time.

Dex hummed pleasantly her own talons tracing a scar along his arm. Feeling her focus narrow again despite being satisfied. Vellios was probably aware of the natural magnetism he projected but Dex didn’t mind the pull.

Serena rolled her eyes. “Just keep it in the bedroom…” She grumbled as she turned around to leave.

Just as Serena was about to leave the three of them received a notification of a new contract on their omnitools. Along with a message from Tanya to meet in fifteen minutes. “Looks like we’ve got another job.”

[Fallenreaper]

...PALAVEN PSYCHIATRIC CLINIC....

ACCESS IDENTIFICATION: AG289-trH2
PASSCODE:**********
>> ACCESS DENIED
PASSWORD:_
>>STAND BY
//:OVERRIDE_ADMINISTRATION: AA375-qsG0
>> PROCESSING
PASSWORD: **********
>> ACCESS GRANTED
_>> ACCESSING COUNSELOR LOGS…
>> LOADING
PLEASE SELECT A FILE
>> PATIENT FILE_
>> AUDIO SECESSIONS_
>> THERAPIST PERSONAL LOGS_
>> ROOM 172 SECURITY FEED_ -12/25/2357-14:00_

DR. ALISHRA T’VYNAS LOGS

Video playback

Dr. Alishra T’Vynas’ office came into view through the dim cameras. The office had a sharp, streamlined design that complimented the Turian’s sense of duty and professionalism, something expected on Pavalen. Across from her desk were several narrow yet tall windows with the shutters sealed tightly, their metal preventing the sunlight and radiation from seeping in. It also blocked the Turian city from view during the day and casted the therapist into artificial light . Currently her crested was bent over her work. In the far corner, diagonally from her location, was a simple chair and reclining couch that hadn't been used in several weeks since her arrival.

There was a few homey touches that broke up the serious of the scenery creating a familiarity that Alishra enjoyed and ruined the alienating professionalism within her work space. These were all she brought over after she left her home colony. Her eyes lifted from her display to stare a bit at her picture, her children and their grandmother smiling at her, the image framed and sitting on her desk. Her head lingered a moment before the sound of her sealed doors hissing open caused her to pull away.

Followed by the hiss came a military Turian, dressed in military grabs of the Hierarchy. His posture screamed high ranking, her sight noting the metals and stars to visually confirm such assumption, while he approached her desk and stopped in front. His piercing yellow eyes studied her with the same scrutinizing look she gave him until his gravely voice broke the silence. “Dr. T’Vynas? I presume.”

She wasn’t surprised at this treatment. The calm, yet cautious tone that carefully measured itself to keep a politeness customary when dealing with her race, the perks and accorded respect that came with being an Asari. Her fingers intertwined to rest under her chin while she paused for a moment and weighed his comment. She took in his image from his dark brown carapace, lightened by the Palaven markings across his face, and thicker than average frame for his species giving him a filled out form. Relaxing her stern expression into a blank one, she reclined in her chair and placed her interlaced fingers into her lap, her leg crossed over the other one under the desk. When he hooked eyes with the Turian, she returned the courteous gentler than she had received.

“Hello, High Admiral Lorus Fenos. What can I do for you?” In truth she was very curious, it showed easily in her body language as she leaned into the conversation when the High Admiral started to speak.

“Your patient, Vellios Malkai, I would like to see his files and get your professional opinion.” Fenos started, his vocal cord keeping steady and calm with surprisingly flawlessness.

This caused the Asari to narrow her focus on the source, her face to crunch up in discomfort then melt back into a neutral stance. It wasn’t uncommon for the High Admire to come into her office and request patient file, those she had cleared for combat or retirement, just to see what exactly he had to work with for deployment. In fact, it was her primary purpose here to evaluate and determine which Turian patient was best suited for the task. This situation was strange. Almost too strange as asking for a patient by name, especially one in such shattered moral and emotional state, was stirring her wariness into a new level since Vellios was also considered too young to be officially recruited into the military. Not accounting for the military’s tradition of hazing, grueling training and verbal cruelty which, she worried, might pulled the boy back into a trauma he wasn’t fully able to cope with again.

“High Admiral, Fenos, this is particularly odd,” Alishra started, her leg adjusting back onto the floor and pulled herself toward the desk, her arms moved to rest on the top while she retained eye contact, “Especially since the turian in question is young, morally shattered, and rather mentally ill prepared for the recruitment stages of the Hierarchy. The fact you know him and he’s even on your radar is… disturbing to me, for lack of better words.”

Fenos didn’t say anything. The high Admiral merely stared into the far wall, drawing more awareness about the situation within the doctor, as he seemed to mentally debate on what he was about to share. Deciding at last it seemed, he turned his avian like head into her direction with a high positioned crest and predatory eyes fixed upon her. His words were unexpected drawing her attention to his proposal.

“His background states he’s experienced hardships and a violent environment during his recruit-”

“Recruitment sounds more like he was a willing participant which, as I state in my personal files, he was anything but one. Vellios has suffered traumatizing experiences that no turian youth should’ve ever been subjected.” Promptly, more out of professional accuracy than intentional pride, Dr. T’Vynas corrected the turian officer. “This includes from killing his own mother to surviving the Haides twisted form of justice and moral atmosphere. The fact he managed to escape and can even adjust to a faint sustaining, civilized life within C-Sec’s very cells is nothing short of the Goddess’ blessing. Most individuals we’ve encountered have often regressed back or lost their mind, and those were converted adults.”

She was naturally referring to the rare Haides escapee that wasn’t immediately killed by their own shock collar or their fellow crew mates, their personalities shattered beyond repair. Often the Hierarchy or other government officially had to put them down-not only for their safety but the public’s. Vellios was actually among the few lucky enough to be resistant to the experience, but it still left it’s own scars never-the-less. She had just recently gotten him to open up and expose that pain to her through he continued to refuse the mind melding therapy she could offer. Most patients reacted well to the treatment and often addictingly because she could easily seek out the core issues, aiding their mending much faster, but not Vellios. He rather go the longer way to mend causing her frustration and curiosity to grow with each session as to why.

“So, my question is: why do you require information over Vellios Malkai? He’s not recruitable age or a viable option, even you must agree.” The Asari asked with a firm desire, her eyebrow raised to question Fenos’ motives.

The High Admiral, something she expected, took his time in answering then revealed the truth. “Curious. I knew Liana and Syberus Malkai, having served alongside the latter for several years. That is before he lost his mind and became separated from the Hierarchy, his views becoming a twisted version of those who see the government as dictating and controlling. He never could accept the government’s restrictions for his own safety so I wasn’t fully shocked by his choice of careers when he fully went mad.”

His sight noted a chair sitting at the desk’s end, his feet moved toward when his arm reached to pulled it in front of the desk, allowing him to face Dr. T’Vynas at about eye level. “I saw the vid feed and his profile image, realizing how much he looked like his father… save for those eyes. Those are Liana’s. “

“You sound like you two were close.” Alishra commented neutrally.

“Yes, we were engaged once before I broke it off. I regret it, but we were both young and felt foolish at the time. It’s odd to think Vellios might’ve been mine once but instead, turned out like he did. I’m curious about the youth,” Fenos stated, his words bizarrely calm and firm in his reply, “If he’s anything like the Syberus I knew.”

“And if he is?”

“May the Spirit forgive me for saying this, but he’s better dead then.”

An awkward silence engulfed the two until T’Vynas held up her omnitool, her hand pulled up a control to the video feed, then abruptly typed in a command causing the video to buzz then go dark.

_____End of Transmission_____

[Dervish]

The Commons, Borealis on route to the Omega System Mass Relay…

”Alright, boys and girls the results are in: We’re off to Virmire after we dump off Nasshole’Dor and Kassy’s favorite asari in the whole galaxy on Elysium, where we’re getting a chance to see if there’s something useful in the piles of shit the raiders during the Blitz left behind. All in all, it’ll be a good day, and assuming the engines don’t crap out, it’ll take us about 5 standard days to get to Elysium to meet our client and get the rundown on what to expect. The other contracts we were offered are still on the table, and a few people, including yours truly, still have favours that they’d like to see scratched off, including yours truly.” Tanya said, bringing a hand to her chest as she read off of a datapad.

The crew was gathered in the common area, most having to stand around due to the lack of seating, including Tonka, whom people were starting to question if he ever sat for anything but necessity. The krogan stood off to the side, arms crossed. While Tanya had the floor, all eyes were on her. She’d simply been the one to organize the crew votes. ”After we scratch Virmire off of our list of naughty deeds, we’ll have enough credits that we can take it easy for a little while and see about getting Drono to a specialist. Hang in there, pal. We can’t have our token drell sicker than a quarian after prom night.” she said, flicking between pages. Grinning, she looked at everyone enthusiastically.

”So, being a business and all, I asked all of you guys to send me names for our little group of heroes for hire, and here… she said, holding up a small bowl with folded pieces of paper in it, ”Are the submissions. If you hate the name, you have only yourselves to blame. Without further ado, let’s see what we’re going to write on our business cards… she said, plunging her hand into the bowl and visibly shaking her hand around without looking at it before withdrawing a slip of paper. Tossing the bowl haphazardly behind her where it landed with a clang and paper fluttered across the floor like the world’s most boring butterflies. Opening the parchment with a flourish, Tanya read the name. ”And so, crew of our noble Jallopy, I henceforth dub you the ‘Jury-Riggers’. I’m going to guess that was Serena’s submission, because it about sums up how she puts things together that invariably explode spectacularly in her face.” she said, winking impishly at the younger woman. Seeing that she was at the end of the list, she concluded. ”Alright Riggers, class is dismissed, go about your regular shit, except for Vellios, who drew dishes duty for the night. Tonka volunteered to make us all a special meal in celebration of our first successful mission, so quake in fear for that to come to pass. Well, that’s it. Fuck off.” she said, breaking up the meeting by grabbing a beer from the makeshift bar counter and wandering off to the hanger, reading something off of her datapad.

Five days later, Illyria, Elysium…

The Jury-Riggers were relieved of their prisoners shortly after landing in the capital’s spaceport, handing off both the Twin Star captain and the Blue Sun agent in one fell swoop. The planet was coequally known as “the alpine paradise”, thanks largely to the planet’s climate and lesser tilt than Earth, which made seasons more stable and the temperature range usually in the plus or minus ten degrees range for most of the year in the major cities. Captain Chad Donnelly, a man in his late 50s with short slicked back grey hair, a full but trimmed beard, and piercing blue eyes and a pale complexion that made the man look like a ghost. Wearing a full set of private security contractor fatigues with a circular badge on his arm with a mailed fist with an eye superimposed on it with the initials EIST across the bottom, the man certainly had the bearing of an experienced veteran. Greeting each of the Riggers in turn with a firm handshake, he lead them to a spacious ground transport with surprisingly luxurious interiors. Donnelly explained that the vehicles typically were used to carry around VIPs and dignitaries, so the usual spartan military accommodations simply did not suffice.

On the seats in front of each crew member was a touch screen that was loaded with the mission dossier, including the identified area of operation, as well as details of known organizations and individuals who frequented the meeting site, along with known and suspected hardware. A lot of it was standard mercenary wares, along with older military weaponry and vehicles, and worryingly, some formidable anti-aircraft batteries and gun emplacements to repel any hostile ground forces. It was immediately clear to anyone who wasn’t two feet deep in crazy that an assault would be suicidal. They’d have to be crafty.

After a forty minute drive, the group was taken to a para-military compound where a lot of the planetary defense forces for the city were stationed, and after passing through a pair of checkpoints and taken through the town-like base, they were brought into a yard surrounded by automated guard towers and 3-meter high fences with rows upon rows of equipment. Captain Donnelly waited until the group gathered around.

“Welcome to Hacate Base, ladies and gentlemen. As you’ve noticed, this yard is filled with just about any hardware short of starships, terrestrial naval vessels, heavy armour and NCB weaponry you could possibly hope to get your hands on, it’s basically a raider’s toolbox for how to be the pain the ass. Your operation is small, so I can’t imagine you’ll have much use for a full-sized gunship, but there’s some small drop ships and shuttles of mainly turian and batarian make, we have crates of munitions and weapons stored in that warehouse off to the Southwest, a few armoured personnel carriers, a few utility vehicles, some logistics transports, entrenchment and field gear, a few towed cannons, some anti-air missile batteries, and so on so forth. I’ll be able to authorize the release of enough gear to outfit a platoon, and even that was pulling legs considering a lot of my superiors consider people in your profession to be pretty much the same as the bastards who attacked Elysium. Obviously I don’t share the sentiment or we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.” He said, leading them down rows of vehicles, including a few Tomkahs, the large krogan-made infantry fighting vehicles, and M29 Grizzly tanks.

“Other than the few recon images we’ve managed to obtain, I’m afraid I don’t have much intel to offer you guys. One thing I’m going to request from you is some of you go undercover into the encampment to act like smugglers and arms dealers. We have crates of inexpensive Elkoss Combine and Haliat Armoury weaponry and armour that have been embedded with tracking technology that updates locations over the extranet whenever they pass into a wireless hotspot. We want to know where these weapons are heading, who’s buying them, and then plot the best course to taking the bastards down with teams like your own when the time comes.” Donnelly grinned, gesturing immediately West. “There’s a canteen over immediately that way past the gate you came in, just make sure you enter and leave as a group and don’t wander the base. I received word that some of your outfit are injured and could use some medical attention, just let us know and we’ll have the staff at base look you over if you require. If it’s something more serious than a quick fix or a temporary one, you’re better off going to a better equipped hospital. If you have any questions or concerns, you can find me in munitions warehouse, I need to attend to last minute preparation for those weapon crates.” He said. With a nod, the security contractor departed, leaving the Jury-Riggers to their devices.

GM Note: This is going to be a very quick stop for the game, so post if you need to, but please feel free to use the OOC to start ballparking ideas for the mission, ask me questions about it and any information you would like to know, what equipment your characters would vote for, and how you think we should execute this. Before long, I’ll have another post sending us off to Virmire, hopefully with a plan and some extra toys in tow.

[Hellis]

Gunners seat, Borealis on route to the Omega System Mass Relay…

”When I come at you with my M11!” Drono sang as the tones of Turian Rap rang inside the cramped gunners seat of the Jalopy. ”I go pwip pwip while you go like shit! Shit!” He almost dropped a autowrench as he swung around still quoting the lyrics by heart. ” They call me the silencer!” He hollared to the techno beats of a very odd kind of rap that contained more clicking noises then not. It was something he had listened to from the moment he first picked up a gun. Drono wasn't big, scrappy yes but hardly a massive big brawly type. To him, turians were to damn imposing for their own good. They could stretch and lesser creaturs flinched on pure instinct. All that military swagger, that calm and collected way they talked. Velios non withstanding. Velios was like something taken out of rap lyrics. A big time killer and a hardcore thug.

No. What had gotten him over being the little guy was two things. A 'don't dance with the Drell' attitude and devouring everything turian, Krogan and Bartarian. Why those three races? Becouse Krogans were ass kickers, Bartarian were known thugs and Turians were as close as you got to a place where people were military by birth. He was a drell. If part of the Hedgemony, the drell were known to be taletned agents. But outside of that, nobody was afraid of a drell. They were quiet, contemplating, introverted beings who were model citizens.

Drono had refused to be model on the principle that he hated the idea of settling down. He had wanted adventure. And he had gotten it in spades. He had used slang he picked up from holotapes and music videos. He had forged himself a persona that was swaggering and quick talking. And soon enough, it had seeped into who he was. Now, Drono actually was that smooth talking, quick tempered, unpredictable ”Drell with a plan”. It had become his armor of sorts. All these little tricks and ticks. All these varius ways to turn a word or tweak the situation. But it was also his weakness. A lonely drell is a suffering drell his father always told him. They were big on communion. On spirituality.

The song switched. Another, heavier beat began to thump. He began singing again. "I open up like mass accellerator. Hit the gas, shoot out like comet , call me the creator. Go hard like a brrrt brrt pow pow. Work my flow like how.do.he. Doooo eiiiit”

He had bounced around for so long, he hardly remembered what home felt and smelled like. Well he could trough the eidic memory of all his kind. But his memories was of crawling over metal flore, of searing pain and smell of his own blood. Not of home.

The music continued to pump as he shut out the memories, the pain, the uncerteinty. Safe in his suit of turian swagger and krogan badass armor.

[DearTrickster]

Borealis - Common Area

Tanya’s dismissal after the small meeting had Dex pouring over the new contract while reviewing the messages Drono, Tanya and Haze had sent to everyone. The pilot wanted to know more about the memorial Tanya wanted to attend. A far cry from being a representative of turians, Dex felt the need to pay her respects on behalf of her race and pay respects to the loss Tanya’s father. She couldn’t imagine how her life would have been like if she had lost her father. Even back then, Taetrus was largely in disagreement when the Hierarchy mobilized against the Alliance. It added fuel to the Separatist’s fire. The colony wanted nothing to do with the wars the Hierarchy started.

Haze’s initial distaste of Omega finally making a lot of sense. Dex wouldn’t have pegged the brutal home world turian as a bounty hunter, especially not a high profile one. She had an itch to dig into that bounty board herself to get more information.

Then finally it was Drono, the drell who had unexpectedly partnered with her during the mission and took the brunt of the punishment T’Raza doled out. Dex felt guilty she didn’t do more or had a quicker shot that could have prevented Drono from getting hurt the way he did. Helping him would make up for her failing to literally protect his back the way he saved hers. Having someone able to keep up with her in stealth was huge.

To Drono she wrote,

Consider me signed up to help, sorry I couldn’t do more to stop T’Raza. I hope she enjoys her shattered kneecaps. Don’t usually take pride in nasty shots like that but now I’m sort of glad.

Also, picked you up a new targeting system for the ship and it’s waiting for you to install it. I know a few good ways to help ease back pain talk to me when we land on Elysium. – Dex

While to Tanya,

Hey Tanya, if it’s alright I want to go with you to the memorial. I’m sorry you lost your father to that shit war; I can’t imagine what it’d be like losing mine. Let me know. - Dex

The Levos had Tonka’s big meal to look forward to and the turians were surprised with a hot meal by Kasyra. Dex was pleasantly surprised when she tasted Kasy’s cooking; it was both delicious and reminded her of home. The meal was warm and inviting while in sharp contrast to the opposite of Kasy’s personality. Withholding that comment she instead thanked the quarian.

Getting up relatively early before the others and like she had predicted it took her forever to get to sleep. In spite of her libido being satisfied her body still refused proper sleep. Clocking in only four and a half hours. She spent the quiet hours of the morning ripping apart the pilot console, swearing and cursing her way through decades worth of band aid fixes. When she finally cleared the console of terrifying amounts of glue, tape and poorly soldered pieces she installed the autopilot and when checking her console again it ran like a dream compared to how it did the day before. The mountains of error messages were no longer there. The other systems on the Borealis needed TLC but this was a start.

When Iosif had joined her with Haze in tow they took off to Elysium, with a full tank of fuel and five days of solid travel to look forward to. The three of them on the bridge worked well with the pockets of silence or quiet they had. It was comfortable. While on her breaks away from the bridge she’d visit Vellios, checking to see how his injuries healed. While in the evenings after her shift at the helm she’d play a game of chess with Serena. Making the odd appearance and visit to everyone throughout the trip. If they crew didn't see her wondering the ship they heard her little announcements over the general comms, they were usually mixed generously with information and nonsense humour to break up the tedium.

---

The arrival to Elysium was due and Captain Donnelly’s welcome was warm.

“I’ll be able to authorize the release of enough gear to outfit a platoon, and even that was pulling legs considering a lot of my superiors consider people in your profession to be pretty much the same as the bastards who attacked Elysium. Obviously I don’t share the sentiment or we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

Music to Dex’s ears, a well-meaning vet with the means and authority to do an awesome favour. The multitude of vehicles and small ships had made Dex nearly take off at a run when Donnelly left them to their own devices.

She stopped then said rather pointedly her note not meant to be argued with, “Vellios you need to see a proper doctor. Get your injuries sorted and same with you Drono, go get fixed up for the time being. Tape and splints aren’t good enough. If anyone needs me I’ll be bouncing around the vehicles.”

Turning on her heel she made a beeline for the ships.

“We are getting rid of the garbage in the hangar and replacing it with a good and proper shuttle.” Dex said to no one in particular over the general comms walking among the rows of vehicles ranging from various makes, models and age. “It only makes sense to make full use of two pilots. Right Iosif? We don’t need anything fancy.”

She moved excitedly from shuttle and ship alike getting specs sending off good readings to Iosif. One particular shuttle, turian in style but modified with extra seats and a bigger gun caught her eye. The model was a MV74 Kite rather roomy originally but the extra seat took up some floor space, thankfully none of the head clearance was sacrificed in the modifications. The diagnostics were looking green and upon further inspection it wasn’t too roughed up. Without really meaning to she had her heart set on the Kite.

[Hellis]

Elysium Shipyard, Clinic - Dex & Drono

@Hellis & @DearTrickster

---

"How did this happen?" Dr. Kindersly looked a bit shocked. "Your body is fighting off multiple points of infection. Almost like a quarian without his or her suit. Your nervous system is all bungled up."

"Gee. Thanks Doc." Drono scowled. He knew he should have waited to see a doctor until they could make it to the clinic. These people had no idea what had been done to him. Didn't know about the extent of his damage. They would want to keep him there for surveillance.

"If we are gonna fix this, we are gonna have to keep you here and put you under the kn-"

"Hah!" Drono starlted the doctor so badly he lost what he was about to say. "Hahaha. Yeah no doc. You ain't touching me with no scalpel. Only one man I trust with that, and he is in Lafayette station." Drono looked at Dex, who had been kind enough to follow and keep him company.

Her eyes tracked along the length of the drell's back and scar tissue marking where he was shot. It looked angry and incredibly painful. While other marks of various size and age were across his back and arms. Not entirely surprised at the level of scar tissue with his reckless decisions during fights, but it was still quite a bit.

"I told you it was waste of time." He said as he got off the table.

Dex shrugged in response. "Anything to tie him over for a bit? A brace to wear at night?"

The Alliance base had an pretty decent line up of well trained staff with facilities able in the care of more advanced injuries and illness. Unfortunately much like Donnelly had stated when they were brought in it still wasn't up to snuff of a fully equipped hospital.

The human Dr. Kindersly was approaching his late 40's and greys sprouting in various areas of his head. With glasses poised on the top of his head while a pair of curiously dark green eyes squinted up at the turian at her suggestion.

"I'll see what I can do for now. A brace isn't going to help anything if he gets hurt again." Dr Kindersly gave Drono a withering look.

"It's nerve damage right? Not like a brace would do any good anyway."

"How DID you get these kind of complications?" The doctor inquired as he prescribed Drono with some painkillers. "Here, the medication is pretty heavy duty. Enough to put a rhino to sleep. Tranqulizer tablets and enough antibiotics to beat back the beubonic plague."

"What the fuck is a Rhino?" Dex remarked snarkily.

"I think its big, dumb and charge things blindly if I remember correctly. And no. It ain't just a Krogan wearing a horn."

Dr. Kindersly shook his head at their banter already losing patience for the pair of aliens. "Don't over do it. Take the painkillers and antibiotics as suggested. They'll have to last until you get to Lafayette."

"Oh, and it was A HUMAN doctor first operated on me... Oh and someone dumped a nerve toxin into a open wound. You know, it's a male bonding thing." The amount of deadpan sarcasm in Dronos voice would make a Turian council member proud. The doctor stared blankly at him.

"Why? Who wou-"

"And that wound was a bullet wound ok? I got fucking shot. So stop with the fucking questions before I lose my fucking temper. Fuck." Drono's temper was slipping away at record time. The pain, the questions, the memories were just popping off too fast and hit too hard for him to deal with right now.

"...Do I need to call security?" Dr Kindersly asked, not unkindly despite the evident threat inherit in the wording.

"No need. We are leaving." Drono mumbled as he began to pull the shirt back on, "Thanks for the pills."

Dex's mandibles twitched at his sudden flare in temper then apologized to the doctor immediately hoping to smooth things over. "Long trip, bad back you know how it is. Thanks again."

"Come on, I know what will cheer you up." Dex said lightly leading the way out of the doctor's office heading back to the yard. "I already picked through the shuttles but haven't touched the weaponry. Probably enough guns here to make you drool."

If he had had visible ears, they would have twitched at the mention of weapons. Like that, he was slipping back from sullen trot to confident swagger again. "Oh? You sure know how to pick a guy out from the gutter." He smiled weakly. "Look. What you saw in there. Sorry about that allright? It was not a good look for us. And I don't want the Doc to give us a hard time becouse my temper." But even as he said it, his smile was gaining in brilliance as they approached the scrapyard.

"The doctor was kind of tone deaf, pushy with the questions." Dex shrugged again the clinking of metal from her shoulder as natural to her as someone cracking their knuckles. "We won't be here long enough for them to form an opinion."

"Oh.. Oh man. Is that!?? IT IS!" The childlike wonder in his voice was a complete 180 from the sullen anger of the clinic."That's a Portable Kinetic Shuttle Cannon! That thing can be mounted on the side of a shuttle. A vorcha could even operate it."

Cracking a smile at his sudden flip in mood was what she hoped after showing him to the weapons. Drono hadn't been too difficult to figure out even in the first official week of the Jury Riggers formation. He liked his guns.

"The shuttle I have in mind has room for more mods. Can't say we need anything fancy but it being armed the to teeth could be a start." Dex replied eyeing the canon.

Drono leaned in and inspected the cannon that consisted of a sturdy rig and the cannon itself was remniscent to a shoulder mounted stinger missile in the way you were seated. Only this one had a very advanced target computer, and instead of a rocket tube it was a mass acceleration cannon of a much smaller scale then the one of the jalopy. Drono ran his hand against it. "I shall call you... Grumpy..." The reverence in his voice would have unsettled a religious zealot.

Dex couldn't help but let out a chuckle crouching to inspect the cannon as well. "So, Lafayette. If you didn't get my message I'd be willing to help you get to your doctor. I dropped the ball when T'Raza tossed you about so I want to make it up to you."

"It doesn't need to be said but we make a good team. It's nearly impossible to find someone who can keep up with me." Dex admitted offering up a sincere smile.

Drono looked at her. Truly and well looked at her. He hadn' t really had the time to observe anyone of his new comrades. A smirk spread across his lips even as he fought to keep a neutral face. "Oh. I can keep up." Then he looked back at the gun. "Soon as we fix my back. I'll show you how well I can keep up... Just try not to stare at my ass when I leave you in the dust."

Amusement hummed through her subvocals as she squinted happily. Pleased he had noticed her lingering gaze, unintentional but pleased nonetheless. "I didn't think you would mind my appreciation." She flirted. "As I had mentioned in my message, I know a few good ways to ease backpain."

A few thoughts ran through his head in that instant. One of them was the fact that the comment about his posterior had been a joke, not a intended jab. So, now he was suddenly to aware of her presence. Drells mind was currently running around, shutting down all the functions that led to him saying stupid things. When he spoke, the gun was forgotten.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, choosing his words carefully. Like a man about to lay out the plans for intergalactic peace. He would have swallowed. But his throat was malfunctioning. No amount of turian rap could have prepared him for this turn of events. You could not shoot her. Well you could, but that'd likely just piss her off. "I got two bottles of really good Turian brandy."

Dex watched with apparent amusement while the cogs in Drono's head turned, her interest caught him off guard. "I'm a lightweight so it won't take two bottles of brandy to get me in bed with you. Although I want to be perfectly clear. I'm not interested in a relationship. Just sex." Dex said carefully leaning her back against the barrel of the canon. "I'm also not interested in jealousy. I've slept with Vellios and plan to again. I want to have a similar arrangement with you as well. No strings."

She felt she could be blunt with Drono but also wanted some clarity. While with Vellios it had been a fun game to dance around with their words. Drono had this energy that was hard not to be drawn to. He carried himself like the whole world was watching. It was confidence she found sexier than hell.

"Multiple partners rarely work out for me. Starts off fine but it ends up one or the other becoming possessive." She noted casually her hands sliding into her pockets. "You're hard to ignore, Drono. So I want to give it a shot. If you're interested then that's great. If not we'll just work together and forget I ever brought it up." Dex said evenly and hoped he wouldn't reject her. "I'd be a little disappointed if you said no but I would get it. Cyborg turians aren't for everyone."

"I'm not everyone." Drono said as cogs in his head turned again. "What I am however, is down. Never been good with the whole relationship thing myself so some friendly cripple on cyborg tumbling is alright with me." He chuckled.

She looked to him wearing a big grin the momentary worry evaporating. "As in... right now?"

"I don't see why not. These things aren't going anywhere:" Drono said with a grin.

"Good. Keep an eye out for Del or Serena. She's not a huge fan of stumbling upon me post-sex outside the bedroom." Dex said mischievously doing a quick look over her shoulder then holding out her prosthetic hand to the blue drell.

He closed his fingers around the metal hand and smiled as he got up. "Lead the way."

[Fallenreaper]

Vellios, Elysium Shipyard

Captain Chad Donnelly, a man in his late 50s with short slicked back grey hair, a full but trimmed beard, and piercing blue eyes and a pale complexion that made the man look like a ghost. Wearing a full set of private security contractor fatigues with a circular badge on his arm with a mailed fist with an eye superimposed on it with the initials EIST across the bottom, the man certainly had the bearing of an experienced veteran. Greeting each of the Riggers in turn with a firm handshake, he lead them to a spacious ground transport with surprisingly luxurious interiors. Donnelly explained that the vehicles typically were used to carry around VIPs and dignitaries, so the usual spartan military accommodations simply did not suffice.

When Donnelly extended his hand, Vellios let a light smile cross his mandible then shook it. His eyes met the veteran’s eyes without wavering and briefly wondered, for a second, if this man had served in the Relay 314 Incident. It was possible. The turian didn’t dwell on it for very long and brushed it away, retracting his hand back to his side before finally following the man’s lead. Naturally he sat between Dex and Serena, settling into the cushioned transport.

His blue eyes darted around the spacious interior with interest. Vellios’ head perked up at Donnelly’s mention of it being used for VIPs and dignitaries making his eyes scrunch in question, unsure why they would’ve wasted the time and effort on a bunch of mercs. There wasn’t any gain, save cooperation, for such an effort. In most of Vellios’ experience, instances like this never ended well and part of him was expecting there to be strings attached to this little display.

Secretly, he hoped he was wrong.

When noting the touch screen, he immediately started to absorb the information. He wouldn’t likely retain it all but likely Serena would help in that situation and was likely jotting down her own notes. When they arrived, Vellios followed the group into the para-military compound. There they were checked thoroughly and what felt like every few feet by some check point the deeper they went, arriving at what seemed to be a prison yard from some old human movies. The only difference was it was filled with various equipment rather than bulky, over ripened thugs in orange jumpsuits.

“Welcome to Hacate Base, ladies and gentlemen. As you’ve noticed, this yard is filled with just about any hardware short of starships, terrestrial naval vessels, heavy armour and NCB weaponry you could possibly hope to get your hands on, it’s basically a raider’s toolbox for how to be the pain the ass. Your operation is small, so I can’t imagine you’ll have much use for a full-sized gunship, but there’s some small drop ships and shuttles of mainly turian and batarian make, we have crates of munitions and weapons stored in that warehouse off to the Southwest, a few armoured personnel carriers, a few utility vehicles, some logistics transports, entrenchment and field gear, a few towed cannons, some anti-air missile batteries, and so on so forth. I’ll be able to authorize the release of enough gear to outfit a platoon, and even that was pulling legs considering a lot of my superiors consider people in your profession to be pretty much the same as the bastards who attacked Elysium. Obviously I don’t share the sentiment or we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.” Donnelly stated, explaining the whole earlier display. His foot turned and lead him down rows of various vehicles, from a few Tomkah, krogan made infantry fighting vehicles, to the more common turian and batarian makes.

They all were violent appealing through Vellios wasn’t a vehicle type of alien. He merely continued to quietly listen to the man, biting back his tongue itching to reply.

“Other than the few recon images we’ve managed to obtain, I’m afraid I don’t have much intel to offer you guys. One thing I’m going to request from you is some of you go undercover into the encampment to act like smugglers and arms dealers. We have crates of inexpensive Elkoss Combine and Haliat Armoury weaponry and armour that have been embedded with tracking technology that updates locations over the extranet whenever they pass into a wireless hotspot. We want to know where these weapons are heading, who’s buying them, and then plot the best course to taking the bastards down with teams like your own when the time comes.” Donnelly seemed smug when he shared this fact and grinned, his thumb gesturing immediately West. “There’s a canteen over immediately that way past the gate you came in, just make sure you enter and leave as a group and don’t wander the base. I received word that some of your outfit are injured and could use some medical attention, just let us know and we’ll have the staff at base look you over if you require. If it’s something more serious than a quick fix or a temporary one, you’re better off going to a better equipped hospital.”

Vellios wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he had Serena’s, Dex’s and possibly Kasyra’s eyes all fixed on him as the primarily reason. The turian tried to ignore it for the moment while he picked a tank side to lean again, still in his quieter than normal mode and thinking how to get out of being examined by some human doctor on this military base.

“If you have any questions or concerns, you can find me in munitions warehouse, I need to attend to last minute preparation for those weapon crates.” The man finally left them to their own devices and tasks to get ready for the mission to come. Naturally it was Dex’s words that brought that whole idea crashing down almost instantly.

“Vellios you need to see a proper doctor. Get your injuries sorted and same with you Drono, go get fixed up for the time being. Tape and splints aren’t good enough. If anyone needs me I’ll be bouncing around the vehicles.”

Part of him wanted to protest, even a bit, just to get a rile out of her. It was mostly habit rather than by design but her tone was just like Armis' had once been and he found him not willing to go there. The wounds of his family might’ve been healed, but the scars still were there and getting depressed over the matter wasn’t something that would do anyone any good. Especially his team. Sighing in a mix of defeat and longing tone, he then walked toward the medical area indicated earlier. It was unlikely any of the others would follow since no one but Drono and him were hurt, his eyes already spotting Dex accompanying the Drell.

“Well, best to get this over.”

[DJAtomika]

Hazan Volintis
Borealis

En route to Elysium

---

Hazan laid in his chair in the bridge. After that warm and hearty meal prepared by Kasyra, he'd thanked her personally. A meal that rivaled anything he'd had on Palaven or Omega! He was sated and satisfied. Just a few hours earlier the medical supplies he'd ordered had come in; a fresh, unopened box of medi-gel sat in their medbay and the shelves and cupboards were stocked with brand sparkling new med stock. Even their drug fridge had new, not-expired medicine in it. All that was needed was to repair the scanning machinery and their medbay would be at one hundred percent.

Then maybe he could get his leg checked out. Damn thing was aching even after the medi-gel he'd applied a while ago.

But after the group had dispersed from the dining area, he'd drifted back to his haunt on the bridge. Datapad in hand, he'd read through the other messages that Drono and Tanya had sent the crew regarding their pressing issues. Of course, he'd sent one in himself, but his paled in comparison to the others. Drono's back was the more pressing issue...though as to the matter of aid, he didn't know anyone past Omega who could help him. Hopefully the other crew members had solutions to that problem. As for Tanya...

Tanya,

If it's any consolation, I'd like to follow you to your dad's memorial. The war was bullshit, and I'm sorry that you lost someone you loved there. Message me back if you're okay with it.

- Hazan.

He'd send that a few minutes ago, and now was relaxing in the dead of night, the only lights in the bridge the blinking of the auto-pilot and the soft glow of his nav terminal. Dex had been popping in once in a while to check on the auto-pilot, but now that they were past the Omega system relay and on their way to Elysium, they could take a break. But Hazan just couldn't sleep. He had a tumbler of turian brandy on his terminal as he read through news articles he'd downloaded off the extranet at the relay.

Maybe soon they'd reach Elysium.

He had a few more days of reading and drinking to go through before then.

A few days of reading and drinking later...

Elysium. A human colony, but somehow he was more comfortable here than on Omega. And after that briefing and the blessing that had been resupplying, he was content to have a place where he could finally attend to some of his own needs. For instance, his need for new weaponry.

The Scimitar shotgun he'd purchased on Omega was showing its age. For a secondhand gun, it had served him very well after his departure from the sniper of his past. But it was secondhand, and as much as he'd maintained it and kept it functional, their last mission was also its last. After returning to ship, he'd disassembled it for regular maintenance, and when he'd put it back together it refused to power on. After trying so hard to troubleshoot every single thing he could think of, he'd finally given up. Now he was looking for a replacement shotgun.

The trip to Hacate base had been uneventful for him. Mostly he kept to himself, idly scrolling through whatever recon data they had. When they'd gotten onto the base he'd immediately made a beeline for their armoury. He was sure a human base like this would have some reliable gear, especially guns.

The armourer was his first stop. A tall, strapping young man who didn't look like he belonged on a base, but on the cover of a magazine. The armoury itself was more a warehouse than anything else, but it served its purpose well enough.

"Hey, uh, I'm looking for a shotgun. My Scimitar's broked, I think the mass effect field generators in it broke in my last mission. Got any recommendations?"

Obviously a little peeved by the mercenary's request, the young man turned on his heel and gestured for the Turian to follow. He was led down a row of boxes and ended up in front of a rack of well-kept shotguns. The man picked up two different models in both his hands and extended one to Hazan, which he took.

"The one you're holding is the M-23 Katana. Very common among mercenaries, like you. Made by Ariake, same people that made the Scimitar. The one I'm holding is a Tornado, slightly more bang for your buck but it overheats faster. On the rack behind me is the rest of our stock. If you want more shots before your gun overheats, the Savage is for you.

Hazan nodded as he hefted the Katana in his hands. The shotgun was lighter, a lot lighter than his Scimitar. The man went over each of the other shotguns they had, but one stuck out for his work: the Savage. Apparently a human-designed weapon, its purposes were just about similar to his Scimitar. Lots of shots before it overheated, light and packed a punch.

He took it. Without a second thought he grabbed one of the Savages off the rack and gestured to it.

"I think I'm keeping this one."

The young man merely nodded as Hazan strolled away with his "purchase", but just as he set foot outside the warehouse a stabbing pain shot through his right leg and he fell to a knee.

"Guh! Shit!"

He eased himself back up as the young armourer caught sight of him and helped him to his feet.

"You okay?"

Hazan shook his head.

"Copped a grenade in my last mission. My leg's been stupid painful ever since."

"D'you need help getting to the infirmary?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

[Mortarion]

The Borealis; Common Area: Before Elysium

Khosin listened as Tanya spoke. “So the Virmire mission it is? Good, don’t fancy facing the Blue Suns unless it’s necessary.” He thought to himself as Tanya said that they’d head to Virmire after dropping off their bounty and collecting their pay for that particular contract. Then of course the matter of the different issues that plagued the crew got brought up and while he could empathize with Tanya’s request, in his mind both Drono’s and Hazan’s requests were more pressing matters for, as far as Khosin saw things living with a bounty on your head could be problematic, not for just Hazan but for the whole team in the end same thing with Drono.

Still, he hoped that they had enough time to go to the memorial service for her father. He doubted that he could accompany them, the sight of a Batarian wouldn’t be a very welcome one in an Alliance colony, but at least Tanya herself could go. “Bah, no sense focusing on that at the moment, focus on the next mission Khosin.” He admonished himself internally, turning his gaze upwards when Tanya picked out the name from amidst a few papers in a small bowl a smile tugging at his lips. Humans, they sometimes surprised him with the way they acted he thought to himself a small chuckle escaping from his lips when Carson announced that they were the ’Jury-Riggers’ “Heh, I like it, fits our crew rather nicely wouldn’t you say?” He said, chuckling a little once more.

He nodded a little when Tanya dismissed the group, going back to his quarters on the Borealis. briefly wondering what to do with his free time before they reached Virmire “Hmm, could write home, maybe read a little.” He thought out loud to himself, settling down on the bed as he continued to wonder what to do with the free time that was now in his hands.

Elysium; En route to Hacate Base

Khosin listened as their employer addressed them, returning the handshake that the man gave to each one of them before he lead them to a ground transport that had surprisingly luxurious interiors. He felt a ghost of a smile grace his face as he took in the interior of the transport vehicle “You know...this reminds me of my childhood.” He muttered to himself, smiling sadly as he looked around the interior of the vehicle. It brought forth memories of his childhood, of happier times before he had enlisted and before he had ended in the Terminus system; letting out a sigh, he shook his head slightly and, silently hoping no one had heard him, took his seat on the vehicle as they drove towards Hecate base.

He spent the forty minute drive in silence, a wistful expression on his face as he became enmeshed in memories of happier, simpler, times. As such, the trip towards Hacate base went -relatively- fast for Khosin as he reminisced of old times, in fact he had almost fallen asleep during the ride and as such was a bit distracted when Captain Donnelly began speaking. Quickly shaking his head, he focused on their contractor’s words on what vehicles and gear they could take apparently enough to arm an entire platoon “A generous offer….hmmm, this contract will be more complicated, perhaps even too much for us...otherwise they wouldn’t make that kind of offer.” He thought pessimistically, a part of his mind wary of such a generous offer. However that train of thought stopped dead on it’s track at the mention of the ‘bastards who attacked Elysium’ knowing well enough that many of his kind had been behind planning the attack and that many more had taken part of it directly, although was silently grateful when Donnelly didn’t make any comments towards or in regards to him yet a small sense of unease remained on him after the comment on the Blitz.

Mercifully, the topic soon changed to what little information had been gathered of the smuggler’s base and, shortly after, of Donnelly’s request that they try and go undercover into the smuggler’s camp with the objective of selling arms and armors that had trackers on them along with the mention that they were free to patch up their injuries at the base’s infirmary and the promise that he’d be in the munitions warehouse if anyone had some questions or concerns. Luckily, the glancing wound he had gotten from that kishock shot had been healing nicely but, nonetheless, he made his way towards the infirmary that was on the base.

[Rtron]

Hazan and Vellios
_{(with a surprise guest appearance by Serena)}
Hacate Base Infirmary

_{Featuring @Fallenreaper, @Rtron, @Mortarion, and @DJAtomika}

Vellios was staring into the tent's back, Drono and Dex currently gone now, as he let the nurse examine his ribs. She gently pressed causing him to hiss in reaction. His figure pulls away and stares at the pretty thing, his arm lifted to see her stunned face blink at him. "Easy there hun, that tickles."

"It seems you have a few healing ribs. About three of them are still fractured and any impact could rebreak them. They aren't any older than a few days-"

"Five to be exact...I took on a Krogan and it didn't end well." Vellios smiled, faintly. His eyes noted Haze limply being helped in, carried by a human officer, and then set down nearby. "Issues with your knee there, Haze?"

"Yeah. I took a hit in that last mission, and our little tangle with those Krogans didn't help."

Hazan limped into the infirmary and sat down in a nearby chair, huffing a little from the pain. He saw Vellios getting examined on the table and nodded to him.

"And what about you? Chest holding up?"

"I've been worse. It still hurts and according to the doc, I'm still in pretty crappy shape. Though that's to be expected since it's only been a few days right?" Vellios shrugged off as he settled down, letting the nurse tend to him. He turned back to Haze with a question on his mandibles, his tone serious compared to his prior one giving the impression he was deep in thought. "What do you think of this mission?"

"This one? Well at least it isn't a capture mission this time."

Hazan shrugged and extended his hurt leg as a nurse tended to him.

"Well, from the initial scan you've got a few fractures in your leg that haven't had the time to knit properly. When did you last see a doctor for this?"

"I- Uh... Never?" He smiled a little sheepishly. It was true, he hadn't had the opportunity to go see a doctor.

"Seems fractures are common with this group." Vellios teased lightly, though his voice sounded forced. The nurse attached a more gel like brace against his torso. It allowed him to move more freely and applied small amounts of medi-gel through the skin for quicker mending, but it still would be some time before he was fully healed still. She then inserted a morphine dose to ease his shoulder, moving to check his arm in a caste still.

"So, any thoughts who's going to inflitrate the group?"

"Probably Dex. She's a spy, right?"

"Fractures, not listening to common sense advice, doing stupid things like going to an underground fight club without telling anyone else on the group, yeah that seems fairly common." Serena chided as she walked into the infirmary, Del floating behind her. "As for infiltrating, I imagine it'll be just about everyone but me. This mission requires stealth, the ability to lie, and act. I am God-awful at all three! I'll remotely control Del and Sarah for support if necessary."

She pointed a finger at Vellios. "No fighting. I'll remind you that Kasy has given me full access to her sedative collection and full rights to use them. Del and Sarah have both been outfitted. If you so much as make an unnecessary aggressive and stressful move, you're getting sedated and taken away. Don't think I'm joking mr. 'Fight Krogans for money we don't need.'."

"I'll make sure to keep him on a leash, Serena."

Hazan chuckled as the nurse tended to his leg.

Serena rounded on him. "Don't think you're off the hook either. You were perfectly fine with just going randomly on this underground fightclub without so much as a 'Hey guys, we're going to be here in case shit goes wrong!' If you so much as try to run on that leg without good reason, Del and Sarah will fill you with darts too! And you both owe me at least one chess game for saving your asses. So both of you play nice, because I don't have as friendly as a bedside manner as Kasy does. Nor am I above smacking you in your injured bits. Are we clear?"

"You know I suck at that game." Vellios partly lied, as he laid back.

"That's a lie. You're actually decent at it. And don't think I haven't noticed Tanya reading up on my stratagems you've been sending her. Cheeky. And clever. If I lose this chess game, you're going to pay for it."

"Nay, I think you're imagining things. Beside it would be do you some good to lose once in a while." Vellios chuckled, the weight in his stomach lifting slightly. Any farther converstion was interrupted when he noted Haze pop off a statement to take off the attention from him.

"I don't know how to play chess."

Serena clapped her hands delightedly. "I can teach you! You and Dex and Khosin can play against each other to sharpen your skills against people of the same skill level!" She beamed at Hazan, clearly assuming it was a done deal.

Vellios rolled his eyes playfully upon hearing the excitement in Serena's voice. The nurse had examined his arm, deeming it healthy enough to be put into a sling and able to move about. Though she warned him against lifting anything with it or risk it breaking again and far worse than before. He nodded, accepting the advice, but not commenting on it.

"As long as you don't turn me into a Turian dart board with your drones, I guess sure."

"That depends on how well you behave during this mission Hazan, not if you play chess with me. Though...if that is a valid blackmai-I mean bargaining option...."She trailed off, smiling somewhat evilly.

"Well I don't know... I'm not really a chess person."

"Haze, tip: just go with it. At some point she'll have nearly everyone playing chess so best to accept defeat and go with it. Serena's got big ideas for a competition oboard the Borealis so no way of wiggling out of this." Vellios advised toward Haze.

"Fine." Hazan sighed and reluctantly agreed to Serena's veiled threat.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Though be aware I might constantly be begging you to play at least once." Serena replied.

"See? Serena's mind is filled with chess over half the time. Though she will deny it most the time and personally, I think she needs other hobbies." Vellios added, smirking with a hidden knowledge of what he meant and expecting his friend to wack him. Though he was injured which might stop her for a bit from doing any damage. The woman was finishing up his repairs and examination when he popped back on his original and serious topic. His arms straighten out while he leaned forward, testing his movement and stability. "Seriously though, we need to determine who's going on the stealth mission and come up with any back up measures for when the worse happens. If we don't, then who's ever upfront is going be riddled by bullets or worse, tossed about by binotics before we can get to them."

Serena glared at him for a moment, mouth open to give a scathing comment. Her eyes suddenly went wide as she realized what Vellios was implying. She blushed a bright red and her scathing retort turned into a stuttering failure. She settled for smacking him on the shoulder and glaring again.

"Oh of course, Vel. Other hobbies." Hazan chuckled, idly watching the nurse attach a simple gel brace on his lower leg.

"I'd suggest Dex straight off. Maybe Serena and Iosif could follow her? Serena's got her drones and Iosif's... Iosif. I probably won't be doing any big maneuvers with this bum leg, so I guess I could be overwatch alongside Tonka. I've still got my Mattock. Nothing compared to a sniper rifle but I can manage."

"Dex I think could easily pass off as a weapons dealer, but no dealer ever travels without protection or a show of muscle. Some times this shows how good they are as meaner the gaurds look, the less likely the buyers will consider backing down or showing weakness by retreating from a deal. The bad part, only a people on the Borealis fit this and likely won't lose their composure." Vellios answered, his eyes edged into his left side of his head and thought for a moment. "Kasyra, Tonka, Drono-due to his swagger and attitude-, and likely me. Drono, however, honestly I question his ability to give off intimidation without overkilling it with crazy. He's scary as hell, but if he comes off too mad than the buyers might assume the dealer is too and question the credit."

Vellios inhaled then took the plastic, cheap cup offered by the woman. He took a sip, immediately wishing it was Turian Brandy or something, and added. "We can't afford that in the end."

"Well if Tonka takes the overwatch role he's automatically out. So I guess that leaves Drono and Kasy, since you're in no shape to be out there without cover. Serena would kill us both anyway."

"Drono can pull it off. And if he over sells, just have Dex bullshit about how he took an angry Krogan headbutt to the head once and hasn't been the same since. It'd explain everything. Drono has enough crazy and swagger to for a brain injury to explain it all away." Serena put in, once she had stopped blushing like mad.

"We only have one shot Serena. Oddball and unusual rarely work, unless you have a threatening edge. Currently I think I'm out unless I take off my cast on my arm and hid my chest brace under my armor. Which I hope you got repaired." Vellios recalled his injury made it impossible to check or do himself, a fact he didn't like at all. He only had two pairs of armors, not the best, and they were getting worn down as it was. Any visible cracks were likely to shout 'Amatuers!" to the world at large. He shuddered at the thought then narrowed his attention on her.

"You don't find Drono to be slightly intimidating and threatening before we truly met him? He's batshit insane with a penchant for explosives. That's more than enough threatening in my book. We don't want angry Krogan levels. Just someone who can swagger." Serena retorted.

"Yeah I think we're sold on Drono being with Dex then. What about Kasy?"

She gave a victorious smirk at Vellios, before turning to Hazan."She's stealthy, and I don't think there are any Blue Suns around. Infiltration?" Serena suggested, looking between the two of them.

"She's got the look and the cold demeanor, it wouldn't surprise me if she had done the role before. Though there's one issue that concerns me. Her reaction with the Blue Suns. The way she reacts reminds me of myself a long time ago, and if she's even a quarter of that emotionally unstable... she could get Dex and Drono into a firefight by the merely mention of knowing a Blue Sun." Vellios said, his mind recalling her state when they were trying to talk her down from killing innocence. His figure leaned in causing him a bit of intense pain that slowly faded, his figure flinching a moment to show it. "Anyone in that state of mind can be more dangerous than the people we're dealing with."

"Keep her in the back with me then? I'm one of the least likely to be insulted by her demeanor anyway." Serena asked, sighing in disappointment as she looked at the complete scan of the area Sarah had provided. It was like she suspected. Not a single mech.

Vellios pointed out one thing, though his next question he felt the answer was already clear. "We still need a second, unless you're fully comfortable with me going?"

"Do I have a choice in the matter of you going or not?" Serena asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Depends, has that really stopped you from choosing where I make love?" Vellios retorted, accusingly.

"Get a room, you two." Hazan had another chuckle at their banter.

"As long as you don't fuck where we can find you, where we eat, and in our sterile medic bay, I couldn't care less where you 'make love'." Serena replied.

"I would've cleaned it up in the end but you interrupted." Vellios retorted, leaning back and

"Please. You can barely walk."

"I wouldn't say our medical bay is "sterile"..."

"Not since he and Dex fucked in it."

"If they did I'd have known." Hazan replied with a chuckle.

"Del, please play recording of five days ago."

The video of Serena finding and spraying Vellios and Dex played, hovering in front of Hazan, pausing before Dex stood up to reveal her nakedness. "I think I've made my point. Regardless if I say 'I don't want you to go' are you still going to insist upon going."

"Well I'm not surprised. I never did say our medical bay was sterile. I knew one of these days someone would do that there. It's, like, the quietest place on the ship besides the bridge."

"I've not tried that yet, Haze... and I figured I might ask permission, mother." The turian started to edge up, his examination finished. He touched his cast and brace, seeking the bindings to see if he could easily pull them off. It might cause more damage if he was hit only once but his own health wasn't important compared to his allies. Besides... if he did die, he would be with Armis and his children again.

"Don't give them ideas!" Serena rounded on Haze, scolding him. She eyed Vellios. "Well that's nice of you, but seeing how rebellious you are I doubt my permission will matter much son."

"I wasn't!" Hazan held up his hands in mock surrender. "Besides, it's not like I sleep in the bridge every now and then..."

"Stop touching your bindings. A, I'm going to make them tighter so you can't undo them stupidly, and B, they're there for a reason." She took two quick steps towards him and gently hugged him. "Focus. No dying. I'll ressurect you just to kick your ass if you die on me."

Vellios smirked, cheekily, then continued to pull at his bindings. His body leaning into hers as he spoke. "You realize if I go, I have to take them off anyways. Besides, death isn't so bad. At least I know who's waiting for me."

"No. Dying." She interrupted him. "I'm serious Vellios. I, Kasy, Dex, and probably Haze over here will miss you. Badly."

"That's not a "probably", Serena. Vellios is the finest friend among friends I've ever made. Alongside you guys."

"Don't worry, I'm in no hurry to meet Armis or my kids. Besides, her spirit would have a bigger ass kicking then you could possibly give. Though keep in mind, if it does happens than I won't stop it and don't you pout." Vellios teased, his talon pulling up Serena's chin with grin on his mandible. "Now, will you finally admit you have control issues?"

"I don't have control issues. You have listening issues." Serena snapped back, smiling.

As Khosin made his way towards the infirmary he was surprised to hear voices coming from it, familiar voices to be precise. Pushing the door open he was greeted by the sight of Serena, Haze and Vellios.

"Huh, didn't knew the crew was meeting here." He joked as he sat on one of the chairs inside the infirmary. One of the nurses approached him, asking Khosin what was he doing in the infirmary and he quickly explained to her about the glancing hit he had gotten from that kishock shot back on Omega.

As his wound was checked he turned to look at his comrades "So, you guys got any ideas on how we are going to infiltrate this smugglers outpost?" He asked them curiously as his wound was being bandaged once more after the nurse was done checking it.

[Dervish]

Four days later, in low planetary orbit, Hoc System, Virmire…

”Damn shame they can’t sort out colonization rights for this place. It’d make for a hell of a vacation spot.” Tanya mused. She was standing in the cockpit behind Dex’s seat, studying the lush orb through the thick cockpit windows. Most of the fancy newer ships had simulated projections on screens, due to windows being a structural weakness, but the Borealis was more or less the definition of cutting corners from an engineering standpoint. Still, the parts and machinery they bought to upgrade the ship were working wonders; the cargo bay ramp opened and closed swiftly and smoothly with an excellent seal, and the new air filtration system ran both smoothly and quietly, and Tanya was sure she wasn’t imagining the air tasting and smelling cleaner. It made her question how shitty the air quality was before.

The team members who were injured on Omega received adequate medical attention, and the entire crew seemed pretty content with their haul of equipment, the show piece being the MV74 Kite drop shuttle, which Drono wasted no time in pressing Tanya and Tonka to install the kinetic gun on the portside; the undercarriage was a no-go as the vehicle would have to touch down and would crush the gun the moment they tried to land. Serena seemed to be happy tinkering with a box of drone parts she’d acquired, which were mostly cheap and antiquated junk that no-name companies could afford and not the high-tech gear outfits like Eclipse liked to field, Tonka picked himself up a M-76 Revenant light machine-gun that he wasted no time slapping an omni-blade and an aftermarket heatsink on.

Now the bay was cleared out of the junk vehicles, Tanya also made sure to pick up a small six wheeled troop transport truck that was of batarian make called a Yolac, although it was rugged and had its own self-supplied atmosphere containment and the tires were good up to 900 degrees Celsius. In short, they could take it on some pretty hostile planets safely, and unlike a hover vehicle, they didn’t have to worry about the entire vehicle going down if one of the lifts failed. Also aboard were 10 crates of weapons and armour with the tracking chips embedded somewhere in the metal frames, the goods they’d be selling to the smugglers, pirates, and other low-lives at the encampment.

The plan was to have two teams, plus the air support when needed, that would carry out the operation. The first team would move into a concealed position in the cliffs overlooking the encampment, where they’d use their newly acquired camouflage gear to set up a small observation post to report on what exactly the team was up against. The second team would infiltrate the camp, posing as smugglers and arms dealers who were looking to offload their goods cheaply as they had to head back into Traverse space where they’d be going through inspections. This team would both collect intelligence on the groups and individuals at the meet up to pass on to Elysium and Alliance authorities and look for ways to sabotage the camp, namely air transport and defensive batteries. With anti-aircraft defenses offline, the team would be able to bombard the encampment with cluster munitions, hopefully destroying a large percentage of the camp and forcing the operation to scatter; ideally with the tagged weapons in tow. The operation would effectively be kicking over a hornet’s nest with the intent of letting the bad guys know their safe haven is now compromised and giving the authorities an idea of where their evil lairs are.

A pair of automated grenade launching turrets were also on hand for the observation post team to set up as a distraction for when they evacuated, as well as several packs of plastic explosives for if they had an opening for sabotaging the enemy’s equipment. All in all, there was enough gear for a commando-style raid, but the team’s qualifications for such an operation were questionable. It was more or less whatever gear they could get away with claiming for situations that might be useful.

The infiltration team would use the Yolac to pose as the sellers, stating they were keeping their ship’s location concealed for security reasons. No one should bat an eye at that; it was a fairly standard procedure, according to Tonka, who had quite a list of experiences with pirate run ins. The observation team would be dropped off via shuttle 10 kilometers away from their area of operation, as to avoid detection. Even if radar picked up the shuttle, patrols would have a hell of a time trying to locate exactly what was dropped off moving through the jungle. The team would have to walk in their equipment by hand, making armour a very questionable choice. The shuttle would then return to the Borealis, where the infiltration team would move out 12 hours after the observation team was dropped off.

It was a rough plan and one that would likely change according to the whims of the team, but it was certainly better than winging it. Tonka had a topographical map hung up against one of the hanger walls with surveillance photos off to the side on a trio of small screens and several marker marks with waypoints and times across the map for the different teams. He was going to be going with the infiltration team, while Tanya was going with the observation team; she did not trust herself to be able to act like someone who willingly deals with slavers, or how she’d react running into slavers. She made sure to pack a case of long-range photography and observation equipment, along with her shotgun and pistol with a pack of field craft essentials. Soon, her and the others on the observation team loaded onto the shuttle and were on-route to the landing zone. After a short 20 minute flight, the team touched down and after unloading their gear, began the long trek through the jungle, keeping an eye out for hostiles, both sentient and wildlife alike.

This left Tonka and the others on the infiltration team to wait until the Borealis entered atmosphere. Tonka helped load the gun crates into the truck and volunteered to drive. Some time later, the ship touched down in the established clearing. The team set off in the Yolac as they navigated a course through the thick brush to make it towards one of the open beaches where going would be easy while tide was low. “Alright, hope you guys have your cover stories straight,” Tonka said, keeping his eye on the path ahead as the transport bounced around on the uneven terrain. “We’re smugglers with no love of the Alliance who are pawning off these guns for cheap because we need to pass through Alliance space for another contract. I’m Forsan Kiv, wanted by C-Sec for firebombing a bar after a business deal went wrong. What’s your story?” he asked the next person in line.

After an hour and twenty minutes of driving, the smuggling encampment came into view, and it certainly wasn’t lacking for defenses. There were even walls walling off access with guard towers, complete with heavy turrets, and a heavy roll up gate. A sentry waved them down and had the vehicle roll to a stop. “Halt. State your business.” The sentry said, as if he was the doorman of an establishment and not a semi-permanent smuggling base.


“Looking to trade and sell off some goods before passing into Council space. One of my blood brothers who took part in the blitz told me this was the place to do it.” Tonka replied with a boorish infliction.

The guard, a salarian of all things, checked his datapad. “I see. I don’t recognize you or the vehicle, but we usually get new faces every now and then. Pull off to space D4 off to the Southwest and prepare for inspection. Do not deviate until you are approved. Be advised that all outgoing signals are monitored. Proceed.” The guard said, stepping back. The barricade was lifted and Tonka pulled into the camp, which had far more prefabricated buildings than he expected as well as looking like an RV park of vehicles, with ships all landed in the East and ground transports organized into lots. People from all species could be found here, including a handful of humans. Tonka found the parking spot easily enough and set the Yolac into the spot. “Well, you heard the man, let’s get the gear unloaded and hope he doesn’t find anyone’s porn stash.”

[Hellis]

Drono looked into the mirror. "It's so nice to meet me" He said staring at his reflection. There was something to the art of lying, it had to be say. It made the world so much more complex when paranoia was your go to mindset. They were gonna waltz into a smugglers den. They were going to dive into his waters. So of course we would lead the charge. Endorphins still kicked about in the back of his head. There was something to be said about being honest with people to. Shoot straight with the right people and it worked just as well with a charming lie.

"So nice to meet you." He said to the reflection, a smile spreading across his lips as he drew upon his wells of swagger and confidence. The inflection in his voice changed for each time he spoke. The nervous edge began to pewter off as he drew upon the many deals he had made.

"So nice to meet you Tenrom, I am Drono. You are going to be me for a while." Now his voice was cool and collected. The words of a seasoned scoundrel. Let them expect a scam, but let them expect the wrong scam. Make them think about price hikes, faulty equipment or pulling a quick one. That's what every smuggler expect.

He stood back from the mirror. He had even spray painted a small mark on his shoulder. A scratched out logo made them think of defectors. It was all in how you presented yourself. The oldest scam in the world was simply called "The Confidence Ruse." Make them think you belonged, and people would not dare question what you were doing. He left the executor visible on his hips. Big guns on small guys made him appear like he was overcompensating. It would help sell him as one of swagger and not danger. Details were everything.

"Sup, It's aight to meet ya, I am Tenrom." He said in a broader, confident dialect. He grinned. It was perfect. He felt alive like this.

-----------

The road was bumpy. And he decided that he hated everything on wheels and he would demand shuttle rides everwhere. Each jolt of wheels hitting a bump made his spine tingle. But despite this the drell seemed confident and calm. He methodicly went trough the roles in his head.

"Allright. I'm Tenrom to these fellas." he said, keeping to the voice he settled on. "I know how to deal with smugglers. These are my people we are dealing with, for better or worse. Tenrom Rook is a smuggler who used to work as for Hahne-Kedar. You know, the mayor Alliance suppliers? Either way. This is all about how we carry ourselves." He said as they began to pull in towards the smugglers base. Drono made a point to look the Salarian in the eyes. And then, from the depths of his brain. A plan began to form. One that come from deep within. A long con. The best of cons. As they began to to undload, he jumped off. He wasn't about to do heavy lifting in his state. But that didn't matter, they needed to have someone seem to important for grunt work.

With the gait of a man on a mission, he moved on one of the guards. He snapped his fingers. "Yo, Mr Grunt." He called out and made the guard whip around to stare at him. "Yeah numbnuts." He said in that outerring accent of his persona.

"You gonna be trouble?" The guard began. But before he could say another word, he was being stared down by Drono.

"I am Tenrom, I am here with some really heavy guns." He said matter of factly. The guard blinked. "And your man at the gates didn't even know who we were. Who runs this operation, A kindergartner?" He asked, his voice was so full of confidence and barely contained rage it made the guard visibly take a step back.

"If you wanna talk to security the-." The guard began but he was cut off with a short, almmost violently authorative snap infront of his face.

"Yestin." Drono spoke the word without any vile. It was a near miracle, but it hit home. His old partner had been in the game for so long. And his big haul had made him hot shit in these circles. Everyone would like to make a deal with him. If he was selling, he was selling good stuff.

"Excuse me?" The guard was now visibly shaken.

"Yestin. YOu know the name, right?"

"Yeah... Yeah he been here more then once."

"I thought so. You see this babies behind me? They are brought trough several layers of security. Yestins gonna be fucking pissed if it gets lost in the shuffle. And this deal is more money then you will ever see in a year or two. So I wanna talk to the big man with the lists."

[DJAtomika]

Hazan Volintis
Virmire

---

The slender gray Turian slowly wormed his way through the undergrowth. The thickets of the jungle reminded him of his days back in the military on Palaven, when he had to slog through this type of terrain for his scout training. It brought back good memories of his time spent in training, with his good friends in his platoon who'd all eventually became scouts, like him. Only...he knew his friends hadn't eventually become bounty hunters as well. Nor had they died, unlike his other "pals" made in Omega.

No matter, he was done with that wretched hive of a station. He was here, on Virmire. Navigating for his crewmates. And he'd jumped on the chance to be alone in his best field.

Just a few hours before, he'd agreed to be the point man on the observer team. That meant, on touchdown, he'd go first while the rest prepped their gear for the trek. After all, his camouflage kit was the lightest and easiest to transport. The camouflage cloak he wore wasn't just for show, it was for his use later on. And it was his element. He couldn't resist.

He hopped over a fallen tree trunk and pressed up close to the side of a cliff that rose above his head. The smuggler camp was close. The coordinates were just about right, or so he figured.

Leaving a trail hadn't been that hard. His scout training had seen to that. An X in tree branches or etched into a trunk, or an arrow made of leaves or sticks to point his companions in the right direction. Turns indicated by more arrows, or bushes and undergrowth specifically tramped down to show a path. And just as an extra precaution, he'd plotted his route, landmark by landmark, on his visor's GPS map. Each little landmark was a small glowing blue circle against the dark green of the jungle and cliffside, and the points linked together with a bright white line. He was sure their omnitool maps would work just fine.

Hazan stopped near a clearing and withdrew his knife, marking an arrow in a nearby tree trunk that pointed forwards. Then, as he advanced across the clearing, he marked the next tree trunk he saw with another arrow. The clearing itself also had a perk: he heard the commlink in his visor clear up. The tree cover was so dense at times that his signal got blocked out.

"Ground team, Haze here. I'm almost to the base. I'm in the clearing a few minutes trek away from the road. Route's all marked, gonna keep going."

With that done, he kept moving. The road wasn't far, it being the same road that the infiltration team was no doubt taking to the base itself. He was sure that Tonka, Drono and the rest were well on their way inside the base already. The drive wasn't that far, and he was only one Turian. He was sure that he'd reach the cliffside marked on his map well after their "spies" had infiltrated the base. Hazan hefted the small pack on his back and forged onward through the undergrowth. After all, their infiltration team had a truck. He only had his two legs.

A few minutes later, he found the road peeking through the trees. The stretch of well-worn path wasn't too far from the smuggling ring's base, and the cliffside was just north of his position. Hazan drew his knife, marked a left turn on a tree stump, and made for the cliff.

That vantage point had been Tonka's suggestion to the observer team. Good idea, because the immense cliffs made for a seriously good observation point. Hazan figured that, by now, the rest of the observation team were well buried in the jungle, and hopefully following the route he'd made. Good for them, he hoped that they'd catch up before the sun reached its peak and made the weather worse than it currently was.

After a while more of trekking, he didn't know how long, his omnitool pinged softly in the silence of the forest. He looked down and brought up the alert ping, and saw that it was his map syncing with the GPS point that Tonka had marked on it.

The cliffside. As he crouched down and crawled up to the overlook, the bushes cleared and he saw the camp. All of it. But without the high powered gear his teammates were bringing, he had to settle for his viewfinder. Hazan laid down on the cool dirt, draped his camouflage cloak over himself better and pulled his viewfinder to his visor-clad eye.

"Haze, in position, beginning preliminary surveillance."

[Zombiedude101]

Iosif was, least to say, appreciative of the new lease of life that their upgrades had given to the Borealis. With the new air filtration system, it tasted less of sweat and burnt electronics and more like the fresh sheen of a well-greased system, an aroma that he was more than welcome to take on. Any doubts he'd had about the airlock seals had been set aside, with the cargo ramp smoothly closing shut with a tighter seal than the cloaca of a volus asked for credits. Plus, with the installation of the VI from Roca's store and a few examples of fine tuning from both him and Dex, they'd managed to get the cockpit running a little more efficiently - a bonus for any self-respecting pilot.

Finally, to top it off, was what Iosif saw as his favourite part - the MV74 Kite now sitting in the hangar where the scrapheaps used to be. Granted, he'd initially wanted to go for a stalwart A-61 Mantis after seeing one up for sale, but after some consideration about both the team's funds and their needs, he eventually conceded that the Kite was the practical optiol. Like Dex, he'd given it his seal of approval after a thorough examination and was eager to get behind the controls of the Turian shuttle, if only because he had a certain admiration for the practicality of the design and the notion that it wasn't completely defenceless if someone tried to harrass it, thanks to the kinetic gun they'd fitted up to it as well.

All in all, he was satisfied - and their time on Elysium had given him a chance to purchase and install some software improvements to his Omni-Tool along with a model of a certain Turian cruiser that he'd decided would be better off decorating his space of the cockpit.

Now, with the plan underway, Iosif had been the one to volunteer for piloting the shuttle - after all, he'd need a chance to get familiar with it and a job such as this was as good an opportunity as any.

---

It felt good to be behind the controls of a bird again.

Taking off from low orbit with the observation team, Iosif quickly brought the shuttle down low to the surface to keep their presence a secret and out of the range of any concealed defence syatems, though one could've argued that it was equally dangerous to be flying so close to the ground. Thankfully, he'd committed Tonka's map to memory and knew how to manoeuvre the shuttle around any environmental hazards. Besides, what other pilot would've offered the team one hell of a view, such as of the coastal island cliffs and the rainforests clinging to their rocky faces?

"Before you complain, flying this low keeps us under the radar. Take the opportunity to appreciate the view."

Soon, once they were past the coast, they hit the drop-off point and Iosif brought the shuttle to a steady pace, carefully setting down in a clearing in the thick jungle, before finally touching down and cutting off the engine. As the observation team prepped for the job, he offered a few parting words.

"This is about as close as I can get you before they can detect the shuttle. I'll double back to cover your tracks and then head back to the ship. Assuming all goes well, I'll see you back in one piece. Thank you for flying with Shevchenko Shuttlelines."

With that said and done, he quickly brought the shuttle's systems back online and took off the moment they'd scattered into the jungle. As promised, he took another route to throw off any radar systems which might've detected the shuttle and give the observation team some cover, before again making a steady ascent towards low orbit.

Reuniting with the Borealis, he brought the shuttle back into the hangar bay and set her down nice and smooth. That was one part of the plan done with - and soon would come the other. With a little under twelve hours before they'd be on the move again, Iosif opted to catch a few hours' rest from the comforts of the cockpit.

---

Part two went underway with Iosif taking the helm of the ship, for a change - with Dex stowed away in the Yolac with the others, someone was needed to take the Borealis down to the landing site. This one was a little trickier, due in no small part to her size, but with a little careful work he brought her down all the same, setting down in a wide clearing that Tonka had chosen.

Heading down to the cargo bay, he gave the krogan a hand with the crates (believe it or not, a cybernetic prosthesis really helped with the heavy lifting) and saw the vehicle off, before closing back up with a parting message over the comms.

"I'll stay with the ship and hold the fort. Pirates and slavers aren't exactly the kind of company I prefer to keep."

[DearTrickster]

The trip to Virmire was a quick one and the change in scenery was for the better. Tropical, humid and lush.

The haul courtesy of the Alliance was better than Dex could have imagined, she expected a box of scraps at most. She didn’t argue the point just said a very pleasant thank you to Captain Donnelly and thanked the spirits.

Dex waved off her co-pilot before ducking into the Yolac once Iosif successfully brought the ship to land. “When we’re done it’ll be my turn to take the Kite out for a spin.” The turian said lightly. “I’ll work on getting secure communication lines set up first between the observation team and the Borealis. Keep you in the loop in case either team goes dark. It’ll be radio silence until I contact you.”

Dex was a little jealous of Iosif getting the first chance to fly the Kite but she had insisted on joining the infiltration team. It only made sense. She knew how to blend and lie through her teeth, basics for any spy.

The ride in the Yolac was infinitely smoother than the shitty truck they had used on Omega. Dex called shotgun and had her foot resting up on the dashboard steadying against the bumps and rough terrain while Tonka drove. Enjoying the sights and fresh air from the beaches while steadily crafting her identity.

She kept her story simple and straightforward. Easy to remember and just as easy to build a fake digital profile. She had generated reports and good buzz about her reputation as a trustworthy dealer at least as Fausta the pirate.

When Drono and Tonka mentioned their names she introduced her persona. “My name is Fausta, upstart pirate after successfully mutinying a Hierarchy ship and crew. Even crafted phony Wanted reports for everyone here according to your stories of course. You’re welcome by the way.” Dex said tapping a few buttons on her omnitool. Turning in her seat to look at the team sincerely noting, “Drono is right. Don’t panic and act like we belong. Stick to your story and you’ll be fine.”

They arrived to the gates and Tonka talked to the guard and when they pulled away Dex scoffed at the comment the guard made about the outgoing signals. “Not for long…”

The weapon inspection was relatively efficient though with only a few snaps of telling the grunts to hurry the fuck up. Fausta wasn’t patient and liked to complain loudly about how important her time was. While the salarian and human inspectors weren’t cowed by Fausta’s attitude they scribbled off their approval of the weapons giving them a report and grade average for the quality, leaving the Riggers to their own devices to hunt down some buyers.

Drono made a beeline dropping Yestin’s name without a second thought. Dex winced at that decision. Drono had no idea what kind of reputation Yestin’s name held in these parts. Good or bad. When he grabbed the guard’s attention and sent him packing to get in with some buyers Dex motioned to Tonka.

“Tenrom will meet with those buyers.” Dex said turning to the others. “I’ll take Kiv to find anyone else interested. ” Then leaned in close to whisper to Tonka, “I need to find an access point to open secure comms. Mind lending a hand?”

[Sundered Echo]

Kasyra had spent a far larger amount of the travel downtime than she cared to admit crying. Of course, her visor ensured no one could see, and she turned off the speaker on her suit so no-one would hear, but it had been the case all the same. Events had conspired against her, or so it seemed. Despite the opportunity to assassinate one of the Blue Suns higher ups for money, the team had chosen another task instead. When it was announced, she had simply gone silent, fists clenching. Her relationship with the merc group wasn’t really a secret on the ship anymore - word about her attempt to set off the slavers bomb had apparently got out. Probably Tonka. She didn’t care. People would’ve found out eventually anyway.

While the big brute of a Krogan ‘cooked’ (in her mind what he did wasn’t that different to taking a flamethrower to some meat) for the Levo’s, she had taken her place in the kitchen preparing some excellent Palaven cuisine for the Dextro’s. They had all been very thankful (except Vellios who, true to her threat, had not received anything the first night. She’d heard about his ‘exertions’ with Dex very quickly - it was a small ship) and while it had been very pleasant to have them thanking her so, it also reminded her a little much of old times. Haze and his personal thank you reminded her, for a moment, of Quinter Murtius, one of the Blue Suns Turians on her old team, so many years ago. He had survived the Blood Pack attack attack on their ship… Until she’d overdosed him with medigel. Even the miracle cure-all was lethal in the right circumstances.

Ultimately though, it was the waiting that had done it. Waiting out days of travel towards a mission she really didn’t care about… She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back to remembering her crew. She’d relived their slaughter many times already - it was what kept the fires of her hatred for the Blue Suns burning, but she’d been very good at not thinking of the good days. Barely a few weeks ago she’d been there living the good days. It seemed so long ago now. Like another life. And so, the tears had flowed, and she’d shut herself away from the rest of the crew, only emerging to engage in the calming ritual of cooking.

---

When they arrived at Hacate base, she continued to be silent. She payed attention to the briefing - even if the mission meant nothing to her it still payed well. That was its own motivation.

She was as pleased as the others to have the chance to rifle through the supply of military grade gear, and though she was disappointed at the lack of Turian military grade gear (which wasn’t really surprising, it was a human outfit after all) she did find a few nice human made pieces. She walked out of the armory with an M-5 Phalanx - a powerful heavy pistol in keeping with her usual approach to firearms of hitting rarely but as hard as possible. Of course she would still be using her Carnifex, nothing measured up to a Carnifex, but you could never have too many guns.

She had, however, felt her lack of a suppressing weapon quite keenly in the last battle, and upon seeing that the base had a small stash of M-12 Locust SMGs she leapt at the opportunity to own one. It was a precise and unforgiving weapon, not like the simple spray and pay garbage that usually cluttered the smg market. She even found a wireless power flow amplification attachment for it - affectionately known by most as a ‘power amp.’ She wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, but all she really needed to understand was the net effect of increasing the intensity of her Omni-tools combat programs.

She was disappointed to find the base lacking a proper sealed clean room though. Most people seemed to have the impression that a simple med-bay was clean enough. Most people were not Quarians. A sanitary medical environment and a purpose built clean room were worlds apart, and so despite the doctors offer to check out her arm anyway, she went without. She was barely recovering from the fever she’d got from her own treatment of the wound, she didn’t want to open her suit seals just before a mission.

But even as she made the most of the generosity of their client, alarm bells were going off. Why would they be given near free reign to a weapons depot this big if the mission was as simple and ‘likely to go without a hitch’ as was being claimed. She expected something to go horribly wrong somewhere along the line. Many years in the merc business had taught her that you didn’t arm your merc team to the teeth unless you expected them to to be getting into some serious trouble.

---

When Tonka asked the rest of the infiltration team what their story was, Kasyra replied “Zela’Yaerah Nar Shaehala” She had considered using her real name (less the vas) and credentials - after all she was a merc, this particular job was within her past work experience… But what had ultimately caused her to decide against it was the fact that the criminals might remember the names of the team and hold a grudge against them. She didn’t want to be hunted by two separate major criminal organisations, one was more than enough. Then again, it was possible they’d be hunted false name or no. Theirs was an eclectic team at best - it wasn’t every day you found a Krogan, a Drell, a Turian and a Quarian all in the same group.

And thus, she had made up a given name, taken the family name of a girl she had particularly disliked in her youth and assumed the ship name of a Civilian Fleet vessel she knew had suffered an eezo core overload a few years ago. “A Quarian with no desire to complete a pilgrimage for a Fleet that can't decide on whether it would prefer to die of old age or go out in a blaze of pointless glory. I’ve been around doing odd jobs for shady people, like yourselves, for four years now. I’m mostly muscle, but also a somewhat proficient combat tech.”

She hadn’t put a lot of effort into differentiating Zela’s attitude or capabilities from her own, but that was on purpose. She wasn’t exactly an accomplished liar, and her actual personality was plenty unpleasant to make believable criminal scum. Not in the least because she actually was criminal scum by the standards of any race but her own. And possibly her own as well if they knew everything. “I’ll lift things and look threatening. Basically the standard drill for escorting a smuggling op.” She added casually, then continued in a sarcastic manner “What, you didn’t think the Migrant fleet survived on the goodwill of the planets we show up uninvited at? Or that Migrant Marines spent all their time poking the Geth?” She chose not to add a remark about how she had experience doing this with the Blue Suns as well.

While Drono and Tonka talked their way through the guards, she just acted like dumb muscle. Though act was a strong word. She always walked around like she was ready to stab someone for the smallest reason. When Drono broke away from the group, she followed him, staring down anyone who dared cast a glance at him. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. He was the crazy, the suave, the fast talker, while she was the scary, the muscle that threatened physical punishment whenever ‘Tenrom’ demanded it.

[Fallenreaper]

Observation team- Vellios, Virmire Jungle

Vellios was disappointed when he was denied any of the first meal Kasyra made. Through, he felt the price was worth it as he satisfied his needs with the stale Turian rations they had within storage. It wasn’t nearly as good but better than starving in his opinion and he had had worse. For the majority of the trip he been on bed rest within his quarters, either idly playing chess or talking with whoever visited him. Mostly Serena and Dex, with a few occasional visits from Drono, Tayna and others. He couldn’t honestly say he fully behaved with Dex and followed doc Kasy’s orders within his own quarters but he did make sure not to overextend himself anymore.

At least anymore than was needed.

When they arrived, he was finally happy to be able to walk and move about. His legs were itching to do something rather than be elevated higher than his head and pouring blood into his crest all day. It was, unofficially, decided by the team that it would be best if he was with the observation team. No matter how advance the medicine was in the modern era, his wounds needed time and so made passing off as hired muscle rather hard in his current condition. It also made intimating difficult when he would be flinching a few times after trying to play his part and heavy lifting was clearly out of the question. Vellios deep down wanted to argue but knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. After all, bitterly he had to admit their reasons were made with good reason.

He couldn’t help but note the relief, subtle as it was, on Serena’s face about the team’s decision. She naturally would’ve been relieved he was forced to take it easy on this mission and could keep her eye on him. Not trusting himself to be calm about the situation for the moment, he didn’t say a word as the meeting concluded, his aura likely betraying his sour mood while they prepared.

---

"Before you complain, flying this low keeps us under the radar. Take the opportunity to appreciate the view."

Iosif’s voice broke out over the intercom causing Vellios’ eyes to peer through the glass. The greenery of jungle passed by the window, animals chirping in the tops then darted away when the metal behemoth passed through. His irises flickered past, following a pyja trying to chase them away for several moments, then he pressed backwards into his seat. The seat was comfortable as it pressed into his back and the belt across his chest was prevented rubbing by the gel-like cast about his torso. Causally, his head pressed along the window’s frame again. He felt the vibrations of the machine rock through his figure bring a little relief to the cocktail of emotions he was feeling inside.

He adjusted in a slightly sulking mood through his expression seemed blank on the outside. Almost empty. For the moment, he regretted the decision to go down into the fighting ring for some extra cash but then pushed the thought away. In his mind Armis’ voice surfaced with a chuckling, her mandibles turned up in a smirk. ‘What did you expect, love? You always get hurt when you’re thinking about the risk, but you’re never down for long. So cheer up and stay safe despite how hard it is, also stop being an oversized hatchling.’

Vellios smirked at hearing his dead wife’s scolding. His fingers started to fidget and toy with his knife by flipping it up then down a few times in boredom. His figure paused in his actions when they reached the drop off point for the observation team causing him to get up. When the door opened and hot air whipped through, he was blasted immediately by the humidity as Iosif then offered some parting advice.

"This is about as close as I can get you before they can detect the shuttle. I'll double back to cover your tracks and then head back to the ship. Assuming all goes well, I'll see you back in one piece. Thank you for flying with Shevchenko Shuttlelines."

“Currently everything going well is the last thing I expect.” His figure leaned down to pick up the lightest equipment available for him and hopped off. Haze had went ahead in order to scout and lead the crew toward their set up location.

Vellios and the others waited for him to give the alright, keeping them updated with his progress. They distracted themselves by sorting who would be carrying what, double checking, and the order they would be heading.

"Ground team, Haze here. I'm almost to the base. I'm in the clearing a few minutes trek away from the road. Route's all marked, gonna keep going." Haze’s voice erupted over the communications causing Vellios to nod. He turned to the others and gestured for them to get ready to move out, each following the markers left behind by Haze’s efforts. This way they would make it to the destination before night fall and still give Haze enough gain to prevent issues.

“Come on, let’s go before Haze gets lonely.” Vellios jested then started to help the others.

Along the trail Vellios felt that Haze had created far too obvious markings on the trunks of trees or other notable surroundings. This had made him uneasy during the trip and slightly paranoid, his head seeming never ceasing to study their surroundings. If any of the smugglers discovered the markings of intelligence here than it would risk the infiltration team. At least in his mind it did.

Unlike Haze, Vellios brought up the rear to cover the team’s tracks. This kept him from being required to haul anything and possibly risk injuring himself anymore, yet still be useful. When a mark stood out on a tree he then made to intimate markings similar to wild animals scratching up the trees to sharpen their claws or mark territory. It easily hide the obvious arrow markings that made it impossible for animal to make. In addition, he carefully removed plants that was too trampled or directed the team how to walk carefully over key elements like mud that imprint. Any prints were ‘swept’ away easily with surprising easy that it seemed nothing ever passed through. Naturally, some factors he found too difficult to hide like when Del clipped an overhanging vine but he tried his best.

He knew, should things go south, at one point the radio silence would be the least priority among the mercs. So leaving a trail for others besides the observation team to find wasn’t something he wanted to do through if someone was good at their job, it was possible they would notice and things would get messy. He hoped it wouldn’t be until his team were safe and long gone. Helping whom he could, Vellios adjusted the weapons he brought along across his newly repaired light armor. He honestly, in his pride, hadn’t really picked much from the stash that the military offered save for a basic silencer for his rifle which only quieted his gun fire, not doused the muzzle fire, and instead let the others have their choice.

The turian had brought along his shotgun and sniper rifle, making sure his pistol was strapped to his hips. His only haul were his actual supplies which were light enough they didn’t rattle too hard against his back and risk hurting him more. Haze’s voice came on the communications again, their current position about a third of the way there, announcing he made it. "Haze, in position, beginning preliminary surveillance."

“Alright Haze, be there shortly. Just busy hiding our trail as I don’t want any ‘lucky’ smugglers getting a wiff of our trail and deciding it would be worth chasing.”

With those words, Vellios pushed the others farther along.