AlteredTundra

Getting Back in the Game

All jokes aside, welcome back!

Mass Effect: Kingslayer

As much as Sivus wanted answers, specifically about how Jorge, who he assumed was the person that messaged him in the first place, knew about him. He made it a habit of keeping his full identity a secret from those who wanted him dead or locked up in the worst Turian prison, because that’s the sort of pull that Tarus Veritas had within the Turian Hierarchy. Just thinking about it made him want to shoot somebody. Just thinking about the death of his squad sent an incendiary grenade-sized fire through his body.

But he had to keep a lock on that temper.

Save it for whoever got in the way of the mission. Sivus always practiced that. If nothing else, he could unleash hell on some mercs and other unsavory lots.

Sivus redirected his attention to Jorge and listened to him explain. Between some person named Zakarth Daezike and the recurring theme of urgency in every word Jorge spoke, Sivus had brief flashbacks to when he ran his own team. And maybe it was his nostalgia taking full control, but being on a team with people who appeared to know how to get the job done, he was feeling like he kinda missed this. Even though he was usually in the driver’s seat, it wasn’t a bad feeling.

Though, two things flared up a few bad memories: the mention of Saren made him visibly cringe. Anger was a common emotion he felt and nobody triggered it more like the traitor of his people. The other was when Jorge mentioned Zakarth left an emergency meeting with their client. Clearly, this wasn’t Sivus’ first rodeo and usually, that meant they had a short window before the worst-case scenario was about to rear its ugly head.

And maybe it was Sivus’ own past experience of getting too excited before a mission actually began (the briefing was like what the humans called pregaming), on his face, there was a smirk that he tried to hide. Usually, someone with his credentials shouldn’t technically show such a willingness to be excited. But hey! Sivus was flawed as all hell. And this would be his first taste of real action since he went into hiding as Sivus Ritas.

Several minutes later, as Sivus put his belongings in a spot that seemed to be unclaimed and geared up, he made his way to the roof. On their way, he saw the quarian, Key, practically brushed past the group, running ahead.

“That one sure is impatient,” Sivus commented, chuckling at Key’s eagerness.

He shrugged that off as he and the others had finally made it to the roof. He didn’t know what to expect, but a simple civilian shuttle wasn’t it.

When they all got into the shuttle, Sivus had never felt more cramped among so many...different people in his life. And that wasn’t even factoring in hearing that the Vorcha on the team was, if his ears weren’t betraying him, a medic. “You’re serious?” Sivus asked more for himself as he tried to process that shocking piece of information. His experiences with Vorcha had been up and down. He’s met a Vorcha accountant before. Of course, being on Omega, Vorcha mercs were very common, but a Vorcha Doctor/Medic? That was rich and, honestly pretty fan-fucking-tastic. Sivus was all for breaking down borders. “Orsum, you’re all right. And if I am close to dying -- should it get that bad -- I’d be really curious to see just what a Vorcha Medic can do!” He laughed from deep down.

Sivus took a look around for a few seconds before speaking, “Don’t let these good looks fool you. I’m a biotic and one of Cabal making. But I also have a great deal of experience with leading infiltration missions. Probably my greatest asset other than being totally rad.” Sivus allowed himself to grin. He believed it because it was true and he’d prove it when the time came. “So we can go in loud, or if our leader deems it so, we can go it quietly. Probably for the best if we don’t want to risk anything important getting accidentally blasted.”

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

So many words

Edenridge

_Outfit
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As Mika sat on the stoop of the Gonzalez front porch, he watched cars with mismatching sections of paint and one to two cars without rims pass the house and members of the Serpents acknowledged Mika with a nod with a somewhat content expression on his face. He was out there for the past thirty minutes, just ten more than when Natalia Belmonte left.

And for those thirty minutes, he had been staring almost aimlessly, deep in thought, deep in a stasis that seemed to be only enhanced every time he found himself drifting into his own mind.

Mika wasn’t the type to let himself think about the past too much. It wasn’t as though he was immune to it, but regrets rarely played a factor into who Mika was. One might say he was like Dominic Torretto in that way as he truly embodied the philosophy of living life from point A to point b. One might say this was due to the nature of the Southside life and the life that Mikhail Zima had known as long as he could remember.

Mika stood up and took a few steps away from the stoop he spent the past half hour sitting on. As he got up, his ass felt numb from being mostly still for so long, so he had to walk it off. He pushed the gate that surrounded the front yard and it made a creaking noise when he pushed it open. He walked towards the left and heard it naturally crash against the latch. The echo it made grew fainter the further Mika was from the house.

He went only to the corner and just stood there, hands in his pockets. In one pocket, he felt his keys and moved them around to pass the immediate time; in the other was his phone. After a few moments, he pulled his phone out. Seeing the time only reminded him of where everyone probably was right now.

And that made Honey Badger slightly ticked off.

Why care about the past like that? Mika thought it was stupid. Mika thought that being so caught up in whatever secrets may or may come out was idiotic. Knowing what people hid wouldn’t bring back the dead and it wouldn’t remove the guilt some felt for that damn shooting. And it sure as hell wouldn’t bring back Kai’s brother nor anyone else who suffered.

Yeah, Mika was now in a bad mood.

“Goddamn it all!” He cursed and made his way back to the house, though he wouldn't go back inside.

As he hopped into his Tacoma and it roared down the street, Mika blared whatever was on his preferred rock station. He blared it so loud that the custom bass-heavy speakers vibrated in and out of his truck. He took chances with the lights; speeding past yellow to red lights, green lights to yellow, and so on and so forth. In doing so, he not only made it out of Fear Grota territory without anyone actually knowing that Big Rey Gonzalez’s adopted son had done what nobody dared to with Heisenberg, Mika took the chance because it was the quickest way to get to the Northside.

Honey Badger really didn’t care.

In the back of his mind he was counting his blessings. The fact remained that it could have gone terribly horrid for him. Even if he had his 9mm in his glove box and a rifle in his trunk (covered up by a blanket of course), it was still a risk some might call not worth the reward.

Mika drove down Main Street at a controlled speed, no longer needing the urgent speeding one might find on abandoned backroads by street racers. Or from one adrenaline junkie who favored risk over controlled substances. As he did so, the late night that blessed Edenridge’s marketplace with minimal citizen presence made it apparent that the stench that fear and paranoia brought from that cursed shooting and its anniversary.

Perhaps that wasn’t the majority opinion, but it was Mika’s interpretation of it, stemming from his own personal feelings about the tragedy.

God, how he hated weakness in the people he shared this town with.

That selective disgust carried Mika into a blind drive down main and only would come to a stop when he pulled in front of the old stomping ground. He had parked across the street and mulled over just exactly what he should do. There was an undoubtedly large presence of people he knew, including Natalia. Just about everyone he knew was in there and he contemplated going inside. He contemplated indulging in this wild goose chase of trying to find out the culprit behind the letters.

But the longer he sat there in his truck, looking at the parking lot and centering his gaze at the main gymnasium, the less it became about wanting to know what happened and more about he became justified in his opinion that everyone was still trapped in the past. Nothing good came from being involved in the events of the past.

Cementing his resolve, though he wouldn’t drive off immediately, Mika would look at his phone. Scrolling through a few apps, Mika contracted his resolve and found himself on a page. And he saw a geotagged location.

How surreal it was. He rarely went on Instagram and thus his activity was practically nonexistent post-high school, so of course, those he followed and those who followed him remained the same. It allowed him to occasionally check up on people that might not be on good terms with.And because of this, there was one person he wronged that, no matter how hard he tried, Mika just couldn’t forget about her.

“Boston Logan International Airport,” he muttered.

That wasn’t very far from where he was.

As he spent a couple of minutes contemplating, something that Mika has been doing frequently in recent weeks, his mind was made up when he started up his truck.

How contradictory was it of him to shame those who clung to the ghost of Charlie Decker, yet Mika is doing the very same with someone he claimed not to care about. He always wondered what could’ve happened if he didn’t choose the coward’s way out? He could even hear their voice when he decided to not return their feelings.

Or rather, when he lied to their face.

He still didn’t know if he would return them, but in the year that’s passed, Mika’s changed...somewhat. He still has those demons that like to come to the surface sometimes. It’s a constant struggle, but he’s better than he was a year ago.

As he continued to drive down the I-90, those thoughts kept persisting, so Mika blocked them out to the sounds of Machine Head. This is the End proved to be an almost biblical soundtrack for what was undoubtedly a mistake in the making, but he didn’t care. Mika knew what he was doing even if everything in him that from a year ago was telling him to turn back.

He took the nearest exit that led him down a road. He took a left and circled around the terminals. There were four and, honestly, Mika was having an internal struggle about whether or not he should do this. It wasn’t so late that he couldn’t go back home and forget any of this happened. It wasn't as though anyone of importance saw him. And by circling around, which at this point he’s done so twice, he was wasting gas. If anything was going to make his decision, it would have to be something so glaringly obvious that he couldn’t just ignore it.

Glancing at his phone and coming to a stop across the way from Terminal C, Mika just waited.

I shouldn’t be here, he thought as he didn’t budge.

In an evening where Mikhail had spent the majority of it mulling over how everyone he knew was still stuck in the past, here he was waiting for a sign from his. He needed to know that he was doing the right thing.

Soon, he learned God had impeccable timing.

Coming through the entrance, hands interlocked, there he saw Caitlin Cleary. She was as sexy as he remembered. But she wasn’t alone. As he gripped the leather covering of his steering wheel, Mika gritted his jealous teeth when he saw who she was with. IT didn’t matter to him that she was happy.

“Niles Sinclair…” Mika cursed his name into oblivion, curses that his father taught him. He cursed it with green envy as they kissed, the grip on his steering wheel getting so tight that parts of the covering ripped.

Mika would follow them wherever they went. Tonight would not be a celebration for anyone.

Post a random fact about yourself.

I am of the opinion that coffee is always best when it's black.

@Gunther

I see you, too, are a man of culture.

Edenridge

_{An @Aces Away, @LovelyComplex, & @metanoia Collaboration || Featuring The Lost Trio}
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As a Southie who had been in Juvie while the cheerleader- who seemed to enrapture every other group in the gym- died, Mordechai was immediately disinterested in the little audio-visual show that took place about her and her mysterious death. Ha, like there wasn't enough death in this town without throwing in mystery. Insert Jazz Hands here. But it obviously riled everyone else up enough to head to some locker that Danny Belmonte recognized the combo to.

Which. Stalk much? Why were Southies considered more fucked up again?

Shaking his head, Mordechai glared at the retreating backs before nodding at Poppy and Jade, still holding Poppy to his side like a lifeline. Likewise, he had a feeling he wasn't getting that hoodie back from her. Given the fact that it was his only other long sleeved piece of clothing he had aside from his old Serpent jacket, he was oddly okay with losing it.

"We lurkin' after them like the shadow creatures we are?" He asked with a small smirk, remembering how easy it was for the Southies to hide and jump out at unsuspecting Northie students, eliciting screams and jumps of impressive heights. Those times seemed so much more complicated, yet simpler in a way. He couldn't explain the twist of emotions he felt when he remembered those two and a half years he was out before Charlie snapped. The smirk he wore turned into a grimace and he turned his head away. "Looks like Belmonte was onto somethin'."

Jade peered her head in the direction of the fleeting mob of Northies, especially those who seemed especially affected by that show they were blessed/cursed (depending on which hill you stood on). But as noted by Decky’s less-than-enthused reaction, Jade also didn’t feel obligated to follow the herd of Northies. “Yeah, it seems like it,” she commented absentmindedly.

In true Poppy fashion, Decky would not be getting back his hoodie. With his hoodie resting on her shoulders, and Charlie’s hoodie hiding her frame, she felt completely and utterly safe. It felt like the two boys she loved the most were shielding her from what was to come and she liked that notion. She was able to press on, well, sorta, because Decky was still holding onto her tight. If they followed the group, he would have to release his grasp because walking in tandem with him as he squeezed her to death would end up being a difficult task at hand.

Squirming in his arms, Penelope looked between her friends and struggled her way out of the hold. Once she was in a standing position, she dropped down. After landing on a lower bench, Poppy took her friend’s hoodie off and tied it around her waist, stating her claim over it without saying it outloud. When the last of the northies trailed out, she turned on her heel to look at her best friends and scowled, “What the fuck does Charlie have to do with Francis’ locker?”

Her dark eyes burned with passion and determination, and if Jade, who had watched her friend’s journey, was paying close attention, she could see Penelope James changing right in front of her. Slowly but surely, the James girl was burying her grief and entering her anger phase. She was ready to face her demons head on and her friends could come join her or go fuck themselves. “If this is going to prove that Charlie didn’t lace Allison’s drugs, which he DIDN’T, we need to go. Allison was a sad girl who was scared to graduate. She knew there was nothing more waiting for her. She was at her peak. And that made her turn to drugs. But no. No one ever talks about that. All those motherfuckers—”

Poppy took a moment to gesture to the exit of the gym where every Northsider left from, putting an emphasis on all those that led to the deaths of many who attended Edenridge High. All those motherfuckers. They failed them. Everyone, including her, Decky, and Jade, failed them.

Them as in: Charlie, Allison, Maxine, Danny, Amanda, and all those that died that awful day— this whole damn school failed them. “—talked about the boy that gave the most popular girl drugs, putting all the blame on him. No one talks about the damage that girl went through. No one talks about WHY Allison turned to drugs.”

After her tangent, Poppy crossed her arms and expectantly looked at her friends to get off their asses so they could get to the bottom of this. She didn’t care who got hurt at this point, she needed answers and her friends could be with her or they can get out of her fucking way, “Well?”

Mordechai grinned and rolled his eyes as Poppy staked her official claim on his hoodie before he really tuned into what she was saying. She was right of course; everyone talked about Charlie like they knew him, talked about all the Southies like their lives were just a tv show for Northie entertainment, never mind whether the truth was in there or not. He had let Poppy go easily, quickly recognizing the girl getting riled up and knowing not to try and tame the energy. Poppy could always be damn terrifying when she wanted to, and it had taken Mordechai a little longer to learn than most. He's definitely learned by now.

"I ain't bout'a pretend that I care about that Allison girl," He spoke up, taking the first steps after pulling himself up off the bleachers. "but you're right, Street Angel, ain't nobody here allowed to put any more dirt on Hard Times' name, I-" his voice trembled before he cleared it, getting it back under control. "I failed him in high school, I wasn't the Brother I was supposed to be because I was too focused on consequences." he looked into the eyes of his girls, an apology there for them alongside the one for Charlie.

"Fuck consequences now. I'll take 'em all to get some damn clarity with him."

Both Decky and Poppy became fired up, something that she was particularly shocked to see in Poppy. Of course, the blonde knew her sister was adamant in getting to the bottom of this whole mystery. And of course, she wanted to know as well. That wasn’t what kept Jade from externally showing it. She couldn’t say what it was exactly.

But what she knew for certain was that, no matter how she was feeling internally, doing this for Charlie -- that is, finding out the truth and truly seeing if they could clear his name -- that’s what was most important. And as she stood up, looking between both Poppy and Decky once more, where a vulnerable loss of life had been present on Jade’s face and in her blue-green eyes, a sense of determination and conviction to see this through had taken its place. “For Charlie,” she found herself saying almost as a call to arms like she was Braveheart or some shit.

“For us.” Penelope gently corrected. While clearing the stains in Charlie’s name was a good motivator, she knew they all needed this. They needed closure so they could stop clinging to the past and all the guilt. This would be the first step in the right direction and it was time for Poppy to take the lead. And so she did. After rushing down the bleachers, she looked back at them and adjusted her face mask. As much as she wanted to get ahead of herself and run to the next clue, she knew she was just on an adrenaline high and who knows if being amongst the crowd once more would put her body through a state of shock. But at least… She had her friends and they had her.

Instead of going ahead, she waited for them to join her so she can latch onto them both once more, “Fuck consequences.” Poppy reiterated Decky’s words. Together, they could handle whatever was ahead of them. As long as they had each other, they would be fine. No matter how daunting the truth may be, together, they’d be okay.

Together.

"For us." Mordechai reiterated, following after Poppy with one last look to make sure Jade was also moving. The quick walk down the halls was silent, and Mordechai could feel himself tensing up and pulling ahead. He didn’t like the way the school felt, and he really didn’t like the moldy smell of the damp hallways; his throat was feeling tight and he could feel a migraine coming on. He wanted this night over already. He wanted to go curl up with Sonny in the Serpent’s Den at EoS, he wanted to beat the shit out of whoever was doing this, he wanted to catch up with Poppy and Jade and maybe even visit Danny’s grave. Maybe even visit Charlie’s.

He wanted to cry.

Instead, he and his girls made their silent way to the rest of the group that was huddled around a photo with an air of confusion, and he caught the last bit of conversation. Unable to quell his curiosity, Mordechai came up behind Jill and peered over her shoulder to see what was causing such a fuss.

"The fuck was your brother doing in a Serpent house, Callahan?" He spoke up from directly behind them, eyes sharp on the recognizable background in the photo. "Not for nothin’, but 13 Carlisle ain’t exactly a Northie-friendly residence."

Mass Effect: Kingslayer

Curiosity. Excitement. Paranoia (mild).

These mixed feelings clouded the Turian’s mind as he rode in the skycar, en route to the Bachjret District. And most of the journey was spent in his own head. He rewinded the message he received and how it was addressed to his full name. Only a select few knew he was on the Citadel. After you got set up by your own father and your whole unit was sent into a death trap, trust wasn’t in high demand and him being here was on a need-to-know basis. As far as Sivus was concerned, the only person who needed to know that Sivus Veritas was on the Citadel, working as a CI for C-Sec was Sivus Veritas.

So how did this person know? How could they have known who he was?

The first thought he had was this might be a trap. He considered that to be very likely, especially since he had fallen for it before. And since that fateful day on Omega, SIvus made it a personal mission of his to recognize the signs. But with this message, which he kept repeating in his head, didn’t indicate anything close to it being Family Betrayal 2: Citadel Boogaloo.

And that’s why he was riding in this skycar. And why he saw the Livilla Towers come into view.

Sivus decided the best way to find answers was to see what this was all about. If this was truly the day he was going to die, then it’s a good thing he wore his best armor and brought his pistol and assault rifle that had saved his ass more times than he can count on his hands.

“And we’re here, Tur-Clan.”

Sivus stared up at Kav-Esh, a volus. It was strange for him to see a volus be a skycar driver, but it wasn’t the strangest occurrence in his life. “Right on, uh --Kav-Esh, was it?”

Kav-Esh’s sigh of annoyance was echoed due to his suit and helm. “Correct, Tur-Clan.”

As a moment and a half of silence passed, Sivus scratched the back of his head until he decided to give his patient driver a tip almost twice what the meter said. It only seemed right since he was obviously rude to him. And he didn’t want word getting around that the new Turian on the block was cheap.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t new. He’s been to the Batia District a few times. Some Batarians knew him because his CI work frequently forced him into unsavory company, but he didn’t need to worry about running into them by the tower. It wasn’t like the Batarians he helped put away were getting released anytime soon. Right?

Right!

Sivus made his way through the entrance to the towers and, after a brief exchange with the man at the desk, a few moments spent in the elevator paled in comparison when the moment of truth had come.

When he entered the code on the console and the apartment door slid open, which had been around the same time that he heard someone shriek -- a human female’s voice by the sound of it -- screech worse than a Krogan battlecry (yes those are unpleasantly tolerable at most), Sivus just knew this was going to be fun.

“Guess the party’s in here,” Sivus noted with a smirk.

He gave the room a once-over. Between the Quarian, a bearded human, an attractive human female, and an Asari, he figured it was the unexpected delight in the Vorcha that seemed to be the source of that scream.

“Man just when I think I’ve seen it all.” He let his eyes scan the room and he felt an underwhelming feeling pass through his body. “Tiny place and a lot of people.” When he set his bags down, he cracked into a chuckle. “Name’s SIvus Ritas, by the way. I’m what you call a lifesaver. Need someone to break into a warehouse without being noticed? I’m your guy. Need someone to shoot pirates and other scummy criminals? I’m your guy. Need someone to get you so blacked-out drunk you can’t even remember where you are? Meet me at Haven and you’ll experience a good time that you never thought was possible.”

Post a random fact about yourself.

I am of the opinion that coffee is always best when it's sweet. And black.

Mass Effect: Vigil

@Gcold Not sure if I'll have the time to squeeze in an app or if I have the space for it, but I'll think about it.

Might go human biotic if I am able to think of a good enough concept.

Mass Effect: Kingslayer

Dossier: Sivus

Sivus Ritas

QUOTE "Ace in the hole!"

PROFILE Full Name: Sivus Veritas (not public knowledge). Date of Birth: March 22, 2155. Species: Turian Gender: Masculine Age: 28. Occupation: Bouncer for Chora's Den || CI for C-Sec Service Rank: Manditary service with the Turian Military → Part of the Cabal Vanguard Shock Troop Unit Profile: Cabal Vanguard Powers: Shockwave Barrier Lift Throw Belongings: Armax Arsenal Crossfire Assault Rifle Hahne-Kedar Kesler Pistol Custom-made Turian Vanguard Armor outfitted with biotic enhancing technology Role: Infiletration Specialist || General combat support || Effective morale booster

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PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE

Sivus is what you get when you combine the closest thing to Turian Royalty and being told he's meant for greatness and him actually believing it.

He comes from an acclaimed line of Cabals, with many of the male turians in his family being known for their impressive leadership and impressive combative skills. And for Sivus, he's always believed he's been destined for greatness, which may speak to the arrogance that flows through his body. and maybe that led him to be ignorant to how life will knock you on your ass, but that's never rocked his confidence. He's always maintained the notion that he is the best and when he served in the Turian Military, he proved it by outclassing most - if not all - of the same-year recruits.

He bleeds blue charisma. He can charm his way into or out of most situations (if he needs to). And this stems from the raw, almost suave nature that is on the surface almost at all times. Many call him obnoxious for the way he presents himself, but you can believe that every word that comes from his mouth is fully backed by him believing they are gospel.

Though he is a leader in every respect, when he wasn't promoted and was still serving under his CO, he was and, to a degree, still is known for his reckless behavior. Again, this stems from the innate arrogance and sense of entitlement he was raised with. It's not that he has problems following orders. If given an ultimatum and it's clear as he is obviously handsome, then he will carry out the order he's given from start to finish. That being said, he will offer up his opinion or depending on the situation and what kind of mood he might be in, Sivus will have several opinions. This may lead him to clash with the commanding officer of the unit/squad he is assigned to.

But after it's all said and done, he will carry these orders out and will always be loyal to those he fights by.

Because that's another thing that Sivus is known for. You can call him every name in the book. You can bring up the worst moments of his professional career, but one thing you can't say is that he's disloyal. Never has he ever let anyone close to him take the fall for him nor has he let anyone down in his twenty-eight years of being alive. He'll risk his professional reputation so that his personal rep can maintain its integrity because that's what Sivus Veritas represents. He's a hotshot and will question authority, but he'll have your back when it really matters.

DETAILED HISTORY

The name Veritas not only commands respect, but it is given it because for generations, every son born to the Veritas family has not only brought honor and dignity to the Cabal Vanguards, but they have served with the Turian Military for as long as they could until retirement since the first Veritas named Simus. For generations for the last seven hundred years, they have done the Cabals proud. With this respect and prestige and long history, there was bound to come expectations.

Sivus, the lastest Veritas to come of age, has always known that one day he would be expected to climb the ranks when it was his turn to join the Turian Military. Growing up in sheltered (though not too sheltered), he never displayed any opposition to it. On some level, he understood this is what it meant to be a son born into the Veritas family. And he had enjoyed the privilege of being from wealth. His childhood home was massive as it stood up on a hill overlooking the city below it. And he had servents that would get him anything he desired. It didn't matter if it was food, expenses, or toys, whatever Sivus wanted, if the servents could obtain it for him, it was his.

But on his fifteenth birthday, unlike most species' who would celebrate it with a big celebration, some kind of food that would be the focal point of being celebrated, for the Veritas family, the ritual that Sivus went through was taking the first step into doing the Veritas name proud. He began his first day with the Turian Military.

Not even a week into service and Sivus Veritas was already in the Cabal Program, being infused with Element Zero and taking the first steps to not only artificially develop biotic powers, but after his initial recovery time was finished, he'd train under not just any Turian Captain, but a one Tarus Veritas, his father.

Tarus didn't play favorites. This was probably Sivus' biggest culture shock. The Tarus he knew, while strong and always honor first, was also a loving father, but professionally, Sivus had never experienced a tougher son of a bitch than if he had any say in the matter. Every single combat drill, training regime, and when the mood struck him, spontaneous runs through the marshland that surrounded the Cabal Camp, was excruciating. Every morning he woke up exhausted and every night he went to bed aching.

This unique form of torture, while effective in the long run, proved to be the very thing that fractured the once delicate father-son relationship that Sivus thought they had. There were even times when he challenged his father's authority. It wasn't without reason. When one of his best friends was taking a short break, his father pistol-whipped him. This caused Sivus to come to his defense, but doing so meant that he had to challenge the authority that was Captain Tarus.

Suffice to say that Sivus went back to camp with a few more scraps and bruises than he left with, but this cemented a thought in the unit of seven that they will remember for the years to come. When one of them was kicked down, regardless of his arrogance and ego, Sivus' unit would remember that he came to their defense. Not even the wrath of his own father would stop him from being there for his brothers.

His loyalty would only develop the higher he rose up the ranks and by the time he was just twenty-three, Sivus was promoted to the rank of Captain. Through hard work and perseverance, which was deeply rooted in proving to his father that none of his harsh tactics would demotivate him, he was given his own unit, but not just any unit. He commanded the same one he came up with.

For about a year, The Cabal Vanguards, but especially the unit that Sivus led, were joined by other Turian Military squads during missions that were generally to fend off invaders from Turian Colonies and those that were suspect to Pirates and other unscrupulous individuals. For the most part, every mission was a raging success. High praise came his way. The Cabal unit he led was given specific respect for how effectively they moved as a singular unit. It was noted by his superiors that Sivus inherited his father's talent for leading a successful infiltration squad that moved as one. When he gave an order, they followed it to a T.

When Sivus was asked by none other than his father to lead a private, off-the-record infiltration mission of the highest order. The mission was a simple one, though it proved to have many risks involved.

On Omega, a former Turian Military general was going to sell secrets to a group of Blue Sun mercs. If successful, it would not only harm the hierarchy by exposing dozens of military operations and undercover agents within the Terminus Systems, but in doing so, it would also expose a dark secret linking Tarus to organized crime.

Sivus was conflicted after his father told him the extent of what these secrets could do to the family. If made public, everything their ancestors built would be followed by the shame of financing illegal biotic experiments. The pride he once felt for the Veritas name had left when Sivus accepted to take this mission. It was not because of his father that he took the mission; it was for the pride of the Cabal Vanguards.

He went to Omega with his unit, who were dubbed The Seven Aces. It was a simple mission, right? Find the treasonous Nidas Stysius and either bring him quietly or eliminate him before he could transfer the secrets over the Blue Suns.

So how could he have misjudged the situation so immensely?

During their fifth night on Omega, all of their sources and the intel they provided them with had determined the deal was happening in the Kima District. So they moved like one organism, crossing the bridge and getting into positions. Those who were long-range would take sniping positions and those who were close-quarter fighters were with Sivus.

It was a 4-3 formation.

Only, what neither of them anticipated was they had been betrayed by one of their top sources.

Mercs from all three major groups: Eclipse, Blood Pack, and Blue Sons had converged on the location, cornering them on the bridge. Before Sivus had any time to react, before he could give any orders to his men, a massive firefight followed. It was a massacre, too. Krogans and Vorcha; Salarians and Asari; Turians and Batarians, the blood of all shades spilled over the bridge. Bodies were flying, concussive rounds shot in every single direction.

And then came the war cries.

And then the screams of agony when one took their last breath.

In the aftermath of the fight stood only two men.

Sivus Veritas and the leader of Omega's Blue Suns. A human named Ryan Gusman. In a fit of rage, Sivus almost murdered the man, but he approached the man, paralyzing him with his biotics, and pinned him against the nearest wall. He only had one demand: tell him who organized this betrayal.

And when Ryan uttered Tarus Veritas' name, everything in Sivus died - everything that mattered, that is.

Ryan Gusman didn't have a reason why. He only stated that he was given over a hundred thousand credits to lure Sivus to Omega, feed his sources wrong information, and to slaughter "the one who brought Tarus the most shame".

With that information, Sivus vanished. His entire identity, from the loyalty he once held for his people and his family to the Turian pride he once had, had died with the other Six Aces. He needed to find himself again. He needed to rediscover that part of him that was, above all else, something to be proud of. That's what led him to the Citidel.

When arrived on the Citadel no more than a year ago, he did odd jobs for some not-so-pleasant company. From criminals to shady businessmen and politicians, if they needed hired muscle, Sivus wasn't against it, but he'd pick semi-legitimate work over being someone they can order to kill someone. It wasn't until he became engrossed in the Wards and developed an attachment for not only the people who lived there but those who needed his services more that he decided to get involved in a somewhat more personal way.

And that's how he became a bouncer for Chora's Den, though secretly he worked as an off-the-books CI for C-Sec. It wasn't the safest job, but compared to being betrayed by your own father and losing your entire unit, being a CI/Bouncer at one of the shadiest "clubs" in the Wards was like paradise for him.

The year passed and Sivus was becoming quite fond of his place at Chora's Den. He developed a rapport with the clients, the dancers, a one General Septimus, and he even had an appointment with the Consort in just five months. Everything was aligning for him and he almost felt like he was regaining what he had lost nearly a year ago.

That was until someone from some operation called "Kingslayer" contacted him at his private residence. What stuck out to him was how they addressed him in the E-mail.

"Dear, Sivus Veritas--"

That's what made him pay attention.

Whoever it was, they knew everything: where he came from, who his father was, how his entire unit died on Omega, and how he was a CI with C-Sec and was close to taking down Fist. Everything he had done since joining the Turian Military was detailed in the message, yet it wasn't presented in a negative light. They praised him for his numerous accomplishments and wanted him for a special task force.

Maybe this was it. The one thing that could give Sivus his light back. Being a bouncer could only do so much. Maybe what he needed most was being part of a team and kicking ass in the process.

In the message, it was cited that his military record, notable leadership experience, and overall charm made him a perfect candidate for the operation.

In the back of his mind, Sivus had doubts, but he knew he couldn't pass this up. At the very least, it might be fun!

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