Legion X51

The Prophecy Recruitment Thread

Hi folks, Legion here, I write Angora Kelenwyn (and also sort of Iridiel Kavanagh though she's more of an NPC now).

For you folks interested in the RP and want check out joining, feel free to go over and check out the OOC thread:

https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/1147-the-prophecy/ooc

Mass Effect: Renegade

*snoops in lurk*

Legion's Characters

Rruik'atth'ackirsa Miurani

Kattha

| {Full Name} |

Rruik'atth'ackirsa Miurani, also adopted into the Old Imperial House of Kirileth. Prefers the name 'Kattha' amongst non-Chiss.

| {Age} |

Biological - 25 standard years.
Temporal - 3,665 standard galactic years. Aging halted due to extensive stasis field usage.

| {Species} |

Chiss

| {Gender} |

Female

---

| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |

N/A

| Role on Ship |

Assassin. Scout. Aggressive Reconnaissance. Security.

| {Appearance} |

Kattha stands at six feet tall, with black hair and the characteristic all-red eyes and blue-hued skin of her race. Considered pleasant by many regards to look at, Kattha takes pride in her appearance, maintaining her visage with the utmost stringence - perfection in her physical form must never be allowed to be compromised. Kattha regards her surroundings with a cautious and wary eye, never allowing herself to be taken off-guard, which to some may make her appear cold and unapproachable, but this is not Kattha's intention; a lifetime of watching one's back makes one less amenable to sudden surprises.

In "civilian" situations, Kattha can often can be found wearing a long black leather and armourweave trenchcoat with black chest strapping, black bodysuit leggings and armoured bracers that incorporate Kattha's stealth field and energy shield generators. In combat, Kattha maintains her attire choices, though sometimes she eschews it for an armoured suit for de-oxygenated environments and the like, or particularly bad weather.

Kattha is of a slimmer build, though she nevertheless is well-toned and muscular; she weighs approximately 175 pounds, most of which is muscle, and she maintains a strict and rigorous training regimen designed to keep her at top condition; in her eyes, nothing less than perfection is required from her. Kattha's body is free of scars or injuries - a mark of pride for her, as it shows her competence, and any blemish or mark would be a stain on her honour and her perfecting standards - even during her most dangerous operations, Kattha was able to avoid injury, unlike many of her colleagues.

| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |

• A-280 Blaster Rifle
• TL-50 Heavy Repeater Blaster
• Cortosis Weave Combat Knife (nine inch blade)
• Chiss-Pattern Personal Energy Shield
• Personal Cloaking Field Generator

| {Physical Abilities} |

• Winter Specialist - Kattha is a native of a harsh and uncompromising ice world in Csilla, and as such, is well-trained in winter survival, moving by ski, and winter warfare. Kattha can find her way through even the fiercest blizzards and snow flurries, and can use the weather to her advantage over those less-prepared for the bitter chill.
• A Killer Par Excellence - Kattha is very well-trained in the arts of subterfuge, special operations, black ops wet work and espionage. She prides herself in her work, and no matter the planet or the surroundings, she will get the job done. She is used to working alone, and even uses her standing as a lone wolf to her advantage - it allows her to outmanoeuvre and outwit her enemies, counting on their arrogance and belief in superior numbers to betray them.
• A Shot in the Dark - Kattha is, by any accounts, an exceptional shot. She has an uncanny ability to land shots exactly where she wants them on a body for maximum effect, be it debilitation, incapacitation or simply shooting to kill. Whether it's with a sniper rifle, a shotgun or a pistol, Kattha is a deadly foe in a firefight, make no mistake.
• Unarmed and Dangerous - Even without weapons, Kattha is a veritable master of hand-to-hand combat, able to use her superior speed, agility and visual acuity to its fullest extent. Though she might not be the physically strongest of people, Kattha is more than able to defend herself in most close-quarters situations, even when facing numerically or physically superior foes. However, if she's armed...
• Knife Fighter - Kattha is a very dangerous woman to cross in close-quarters at the best of times, as explained before, but if she's armed with a knife or sword, your chances of survival just got that much lower. Her agility and speed, combined with her precision, make close-combat a terrifying and usually short-lived affair against her. She lacks the brute strength of some of her comrades, but she more than makes up for it with finesse.
• Hacking and Lockpicking - Kattha is trained in computer slicing and hacking, as well as physical lockpicking and disarming, though she's perhaps less skilled than others.

---

| {Personality} |

Self-confident, cool-headed and calm, Kattha is a quintessential special operations agent in her temperament. She is suave and silver-tongued, capable of sweet-talking her way into and out of situations - however, when matters are out of her hands or control, Kattha is prone to becoming irritable and panicky. A perfectionist, Kattha holds herself to exacting standards, accepting nothing short of the very best from herself and her comrades. She is also not above using herself as a tool or a ploy to achieve the mission - during her time in Imperial service, she seduced a Republic special operations officer that was assigned to monitor her activities, and then assassinated him in his own bed, escaping from the Republic base without even so much as a query from the troops stationed there. However, Kattha still maintains her loyalty to the Ascendancy, and to House Miurani in particular - were she to have to choose between the Grey Mariners and the Ascendancy, the Ascendancy would always come first. This may complicate matters further down the line...

| {Place of Origin} |

Thought by her family to have been born on the ice planet of Csilla itself, Kattha's true place of origin is unknown. Kattha herself says she was born amidst the ice spires and frozen wastes of the Chiss homeworld, and she does have quite the affinity for ice worlds and cold temperatures.

| {Background} |

The Chiss who would be known as Rruik'atth'ackirsa Miurani in the future is estimated to have been born on the planet of Csilla, the homeworld of the Chiss Ascendancy, in around 3675 BBY, during the time of the Galactic Cold War between the old Sith Empire and the Old Republic, far in the distant past compared to the modern day. Rruik'atth'ackirsa was by some accounts an exceptional student of war; specialised in black operations, 'wet work' and intelligence gathering. As a result of this, it has been surmised that Rruik'atth'ackirsa joined Sith Imperial Intelligence at around the age of 19, and rose in the ranks to become at least a Cipher Agent in the organisation. However, the chaos surrounding the dissolution of Imperial Intelligence has left many records inaccessible or corrupted, and information surrounding Rruik'atth'ackirsa's activities subsequent to gaining position as a Cipher Agent is unavailable. However, what is known is that Rruik'atth'ackirsa was formally adopted into both the Chiss House of Miurani, and the Imperial House of Kirileth. The latter adoption is known to have been orchestrated by one Darth Rashaaq Kirileth, patriarch of the House, as a way of retaining Rruik'atth'ackirsa's skills and loyalty following the outbreak of war once again between the Sith Empire and Old Republic. However, the House of Kirileth mysteriously vanished almost into thin air almost all as one during the outbreak of war, never to be seen again - even Chiss records have no record of Rruik'atth'ackirsa's activities or even existence during this time.

However, what is now known is that Rruik'atth'ackirsa and the rest of House Kirileth made their way into the Unknown Regions, whereupon the majority of the House encased themselves in stasis for unknown reasons, with perhaps no true idea of when they will re-awaken. Yet Rruik'atth'ackirsa has awoken from her stasis sleep, now, when the Sith rule the galaxy. Rruik'atth'ackirsa has been able to re-establish contact with the Chiss Ascendancy, and now operates as an agent within Imperial space once again. House Miurani has also survived, and contacts within House Miurani have led Rruik'atth'ackirsa to her newest 'allegiance'... the Grey Mariners of the Noreaster.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

Rruik'atth'ackirsa Miurani

| {Full Name} |

Rruik'atth'ackirsa Miurani, also adopted into the Old Imperial House of Kirileth. Prefers the name 'Kattha' amongst non-Chiss.

| {Age} |

Biological - 25 standard years.
Temporal - 3,665 standard galactic years. Aging halted due to extensive stasis field usage.

| {Species} |

Chiss

| {Gender} |

Female

---

| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |

N/A

| Role on Ship |

Assassin. Scout. Aggressive Reconnaissance. Security.

| {Appearance} |

Kattha stands at six feet tall, with black hair and the characteristic all-red eyes and blue-hued skin of her race. Considered pleasant by many regards to look at, Kattha takes pride in her appearance, maintaining her visage with the utmost stringence - perfection in her physical form must never be allowed to be compromised. Kattha regards her surroundings with a cautious and wary eye, never allowing herself to be taken off-guard, which to some may make her appear cold and unapproachable, but this is not Kattha's intention; a lifetime of watching one's back makes one less amenable to sudden surprises.

In "civilian" situations, Kattha can often can be found wearing a long black leather and armourweave trenchcoat with black chest strapping, black bodysuit leggings and armoured bracers that incorporate Kattha's stealth field and energy shield generators. In combat, Kattha maintains her attire choices, though sometimes she eschews it for an armoured suit for de-oxygenated environments and the like, or particularly bad weather.

Kattha is of a slimmer build, though she nevertheless is well-toned and muscular; she weighs approximately 175 pounds, most of which is muscle, and she maintains a strict and rigorous training regimen designed to keep her at top condition; in her eyes, nothing less than perfection is required from her. Kattha's body is free of scars or injuries - a mark of pride for her, as it shows her competence, and any blemish or mark would be a stain on her honour and her perfecting standards - even during her most dangerous operations, Kattha was able to avoid injury, unlike many of her colleagues.

| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |

• A-280 Blaster Rifle
• TL-50 Heavy Repeater Blaster
• Cortosis Weave Combat Knife (nine inch blade)
• Chiss-Pattern Personal Energy Shield
• Personal Cloaking Field Generator

| {Physical Abilities} |

• Winter Specialist - Kattha is a native of a harsh and uncompromising ice world in Csilla, and as such, is well-trained in winter survival, moving by ski, and winter warfare. Kattha can find her way through even the fiercest blizzards and snow flurries, and can use the weather to her advantage over those less-prepared for the bitter chill.
• A Killer Par Excellence - Kattha is very well-trained in the arts of subterfuge, special operations, black ops wet work and espionage. She prides herself in her work, and no matter the planet or the surroundings, she will get the job done. She is used to working alone, and even uses her standing as a lone wolf to her advantage - it allows her to outmanoeuvre and outwit her enemies, counting on their arrogance and belief in superior numbers to betray them.
• A Shot in the Dark - Kattha is, by any accounts, an exceptional shot. She has an uncanny ability to land shots exactly where she wants them on a body for maximum effect, be it debilitation, incapacitation or simply shooting to kill. Whether it's with a sniper rifle, a shotgun or a pistol, Kattha is a deadly foe in a firefight, make no mistake.
• Unarmed and Dangerous - Even without weapons, Kattha is a veritable master of hand-to-hand combat, able to use her superior speed, agility and visual acuity to its fullest extent. Though she might not be the physically strongest of people, Kattha is more than able to defend herself in most close-quarters situations, even when facing numerically or physically superior foes. However, if she's armed...
• Knife Fighter - Kattha is a very dangerous woman to cross in close-quarters at the best of times, as explained before, but if she's armed with a knife or sword, your chances of survival just got that much lower. Her agility and speed, combined with her precision, make close-combat a terrifying and usually short-lived affair against her. She lacks the brute strength of some of her comrades, but she more than makes up for it with finesse.
• Hacking and Lockpicking - Kattha is trained in computer slicing and hacking, as well as physical lockpicking and disarming, though she's perhaps less skilled than others.

---

| {Personality} |

Self-confident, cool-headed and calm, Kattha is a quintessential special operations agent in her temperament. She is suave and silver-tongued, capable of sweet-talking her way into and out of situations - however, when matters are out of her hands or control, Kattha is prone to becoming irritable and panicky. A perfectionist, Kattha holds herself to exacting standards, accepting nothing short of the very best from herself and her comrades. She is also not above using herself as a tool or a ploy to achieve the mission - during her time in Imperial service, she seduced a Republic special operations officer that was assigned to monitor her activities, and then assassinated him in his own bed, escaping from the Republic base without even so much as a query from the troops stationed there. However, Kattha still maintains her loyalty to the Ascendancy, and to House Miurani in particular - were she to have to choose between the Grey Mariners and the Ascendancy, the Ascendancy would always come first. This may complicate matters further down the line...

| {Place of Origin} |

Thought by her family to have been born on the ice planet of Csilla itself, Kattha's true place of origin is unknown. Kattha herself says she was born amidst the ice spires and frozen wastes of the Chiss homeworld, and she does have quite the affinity for ice worlds and cold temperatures.

| {Background} |

The Chiss who would be known as Rruik'atth'ackirsa Miurani in the future is estimated to have been born on the planet of Csilla, the homeworld of the Chiss Ascendancy, in around 3675 BBY, during the time of the Galactic Cold War between the old Sith Empire and the Old Republic, far in the distant past compared to the modern day. Rruik'atth'ackirsa was by some accounts an exceptional student of war; specialised in black operations, 'wet work' and intelligence gathering. As a result of this, it has been surmised that Rruik'atth'ackirsa joined Sith Imperial Intelligence at around the age of 19, and rose in the ranks to become at least a Cipher Agent in the organisation. However, the chaos surrounding the dissolution of Imperial Intelligence has left many records inaccessible or corrupted, and information surrounding Rruik'atth'ackirsa's activities subsequent to gaining position as a Cipher Agent is unavailable. However, what is known is that Rruik'atth'ackirsa was formally adopted into both the Chiss House of Miurani, and the Imperial House of Kirileth. The latter adoption is known to have been orchestrated by one Darth Rashaaq Kirileth, patriarch of the House, as a way of retaining Rruik'atth'ackirsa's skills and loyalty following the outbreak of war once again between the Sith Empire and Old Republic. However, the House of Kirileth mysteriously vanished almost into thin air almost all as one during the outbreak of war, never to be seen again - even Chiss records have no record of Rruik'atth'ackirsa's activities or even existence during this time.

However, what is now known is that Rruik'atth'ackirsa and the rest of House Kirileth made their way into the Unknown Regions, whereupon the majority of the House encased themselves in stasis for unknown reasons, with perhaps no true idea of when they will re-awaken. Yet Rruik'atth'ackirsa has awoken from her stasis sleep, now, when the Sith rule the galaxy. Rruik'atth'ackirsa has been able to re-establish contact with the Chiss Ascendancy, and now operates as an agent within Imperial space once again. House Miurani has also survived, and contacts within House Miurani have led Rruik'atth'ackirsa to her newest 'allegiance'... the Grey Mariners of the Noreaster.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

Rashaaq Kirileth

| {Full Name} |

Darth Rashaaq Kasmir Kirileth, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Lord of House Kirileth

| {Age} |

Biological - 59 standard years.
Temporal - 3,699 standard galactic years. Aging halted due to extensive stasis field usage and force powers.

| {Species} |

Pureblood Sith

| {Gender} |

Male

---

| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |

Dark Side

| Role on Ship |

The unstoppable force, and the immovable object.

| {Appearance} |

| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |

| {Physical Abilities} |

---

| {Personality} |

| {Place of Origin} |

| {Background} |

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

Name:
Khalathrax, Lord of Chaos, The First Fallen

Origin city/Planet:
Unknown Tribe of Humanity, Earth-148

Hometown:
The Tower of Khalathrax, situated in the centre of the Lands of Blood and Fire

Sex:
N/A

Race:
Once Human, now a Lord of Chaos

Height:
Prime Form: Estimated between 40 to 50 feet high.

Weight:
N/A - Nobody really knows how much Khalathrax 'weighs', considering the Lord shapes their body according to their whims.

Age:
Nobody knows, perhaps not even the Lord themselves.

Birth Date:
Nobody knows, perhaps not even the Lord themselves.

---

Icon:
Khalathrax's Icon is the most ancient and powerful of all the symbols of Chaos; the Star of Chaos, also known as the Eight-Pointed Star.


Personality:
Khalathrax is best summed up in a single word; rage. Fuelled by little more than primordial anger, fury and bloodlust, Khalathrax will stop at nothing to slake their ever-growing thirst for violence, destruction and death. Khalathrax despises those who would seek to stop their reign of terror, and even other forces of Chaos that may attempt to intercede for their own benefit often find themselves the target of the First Fallen's unstoppable fury. With a bellow, Khalathrax directs their forces ever onward, over the ruined husks of buildings, the blood-soaked ground stained with the vitae of those who thought they could stop a Lord of Chaos in their prime. There is no mercy. There is no remorse. All Khalathrax knows is to kill, maim, and burn. Khalathrax will stop at nothing until they are Lord of the Ashes... and from Earth, the dominion of Chaos will spread through the Cosmos, and the stagnation of Order will finally give way to the unending slaughter of Chaos.

Abilities:

Spellbook of Khalathrax

The Winds of Change

Bolt of Chaos

---

Biography:

Character History/Origin:

---

Nemesis:
The Lords of Order

Allies:
The Lords of Chaos

Team:

Fallout: Into the Storm

_{{ "Ready, comrade!" }}

- General Characteristics -

| {Full Name} |
Kapitan-GB Natalya Viktorovna Alexeyevna Oshkina, Committee for State Security

| {Nickname/Callsign} |
N/A - Kapitan Oshkina is all she is known by.

| {Age} |
Biological Age - 29
Temporal Age - 238

| {Gender} |
Female.

| {Dialogue Color} |
Code ED145B.

| {Appearance} |
This is one of the areas where I like a bit of detail, as appearances of characters help greatly in imagining the scene and working posts. At the very least cover the basics such as body type, height, distinguishing features and anything else that would be relevant.

---

- Psychological Profile -

| {Personality} |
Again, an area where more is better in terms of detail. Include both positive features and negatives ones, everything that makes them who they are and how they think.

| {Fears/Limitations} |
What are they afraid of most? Where do they fall short? Many times it is here that most of what makes a character is found, in the flaws and imperfections.

| {Place of Origin} |
Arkhangelsk, Arkhangelsk Urban Okrug, Arkhangelsk Oblast, Russian SFSR, Soviet Union

| {Background} |
Last area where I'm actively looking for detail, since it's one of the big three. Use this to really tell the story of who your character is and how they got to the Necropolis.

---

- Survival Characteristics -

| {Non-Combat Skills} |
Here is where any skill your character may have proficiency in that is not directly combat related would go.

| {Possessions} |
Anything not directly related to combat, work on their person regularly or considered essential gear.

| {Combat Skills} |


| {Gear} |
All combat and survival gear, as well as anything that they would consistently wear on their person.

Mass Effect: Insurrection

Work and World Cup put paid to any further writing today, sadly.

Mass Effect: Insurrection

PERSONNEL FILE #KZD189130 - D'SALYA, KARMANA Z.

"Even the greatest nightmares cannot deter one's lust for blood."

Age:
Born on the 28th of November, 2038 by Earth reckoning, Karmana is 247 years old as of the present time.

Sex:
Mono-gendered.

Species:
Asari

Class:
Commando

Weapons:
Rosenkov Materials Volkov Sniper Rifle (Modified with Combat Optics and a Scram Rail)
Armax Arsenal Crossfire Assault Rifle (Upgraded with Frictionless Materials)
Asari Sword

Equipment:
- Armali Council 'Nexus' Omni-Tool
- Medi-Gel Dispensor
- Serrice Council 'Savant' bio-amp
- Frag Grenades
- Kassa Fabrication Colossus Medium Armour (Upgraded with Ablative Coating and Shield Interface)

Abilities/Powers:
- Assassination (Master)
- Biotic Barrier (Basic)
- Shockwave (Basic)
- Immunity (Advanced)
- Singularity (Basic)

History:
Karmana's early life is not a subject she talks about regularly - if only because of its relative lack of noteworthiness. She was born on Thessia to an asari-turian pairing in 2038, over a century and a half before the events of the Reaper War, to parents of a middling sort, neither of the upper nor lower classes of society. She was, in just about every way, a normal, average child, with no boon or boost from family riches, wealth or status, just like many of her comrades who would go on to fight in the bloodiest conflicts the galaxy had ever seen. Karmana's father was a military man, and it was his influence upon her temperament and early life that would lead Karmana down the soldier's life which she would later go on to lead. She, like most others of her type, joined the military at around the age of 80, in 2118, 30 years before humanity would discover the Prothean cache on Mars. Her military service at first was uneventful, until an action upon a ship named the Troubadour. On the ship, a boarding action had gone terribly wrong, and Karmana and her comrades were pinned down by relentless heavy fire from the ship's crew, who apparently had not taken the boarding and searching of their ship for illegal contraband well. Karmana herself was one of the unlucky few who were unable to find cover before the deluge of fire had engulfed them, and she had taken several serious wounds to her right leg and midsection, to the shock of her fellow troopers. It was not the last time Karmana would be laid low by her enemy, but it was her first, and arguably her most serious. She was barely conscious, bleeding heavily from gaping bullet holes that had torn through her armour and into her flesh, staining her armour's fabric and the surrounding metal with a steadily-growing pool of purple blood. The limited medi-gel dispenser that was issued to her was scarcely able to stop the bleeding, let alone patch the wound, and it seemed that a career was over almost before it had begun.

The situation was broken by the actions of an impetuous and hot-headed comrade of Karmana's, named Marianna R'myr. R'myr was able to gun down several of the enemy troops whilst avoiding return fire, to the relief and admiration of her fellow troopers, who were then able to clean up the area. However, R'myr would not go unpunished for her insubordination; the lead Huntress reported this to the commander of the company in charge of boarding the ship and Marianna was placed in detention awaiting trial for insubordination and recklessness. Karmana was indifferent to the matter personally, but she made a note of the trooper's name... for the future.

Karmana's injuries on the Troubadour took months to recover from. The gunshot wounds had not only left Karmana with several rather painful scars and severe localised tissue damage, but the repeated hydrostatic shock from the numerous injuries had left nerve damage all across her body, as well as in her brain. She was bedridden for months, and almost guaranteed to be drummed out of the armed forces. Nevertheless, Karmana refused to resign her commission, and for three long, painful, torturous years, Karmana was nursed back to health by numerous medics, doctors and nurses on Thessia, until at last, in 2121, Karmana was passed fit for reservist service. Active reservists in the asari military were, and are, uncommon in times of peace, but for those who are recovering from medical leave, injury or personal reasons, reserve duty is considered a fitting task for them - and so it was for Karmana, for twenty years, until she was passed fit for active duty once more.

Years came, and years went, until the Great War, the Time of Blood. The Great War, also known as the Reaper War, tore the Asari Republics apart. Though many races in the galaxy suffered invasion and defeat at the hands of the Reapers, few suffered such ignominy and humiliation as the Asari Republics, as what was thought to be one of the most able and most skilled militaries in the galaxy was torn apart, crushed and rendered almost utterly useless in a matter of weeks. The final straw was the almost-wholescale loss of the Asari homeworld, Thessia - the clan-based system of ground forces proved unable to stop the tide of Reaper attacks across the planet, leaving only holdouts fighting desperately to prevent the complete takeover of Thessian soil. Karmana fought bitterly in one such holdout, and she watched as the citizen militias of the Republics gave their lives in futile attacks, ordered by those who simply could not comprehend or contemplate the magnitude of the task at hand. Simply put; they were lions, only instead of donkeys... they had no leadership at all.

The Reaper War left great scars upon the planet of Thessia and its people, almost none of whom did not know of several friends and family lost to, or even converted by, the Reaper forces. The defeat on Thessia led to a people who almost lost faith in their leaders, and the butchery of Thessia was burned into the consciousness of the asari, and would remain so for generations to come. The slaughter was unprecedented in Asari history... and Karmana vowed never to see the Republics brought so low as they were then. Since the end of the Reaper War, Karmana retired to a small village in the highlands of Scotland, where she hoped to find peace and solitude from the horrors of the galaxy after such devastating bloodshed. Yet she did not sit idle on her laurels - instead of the bullet, she found a new way to fight for the Asari - by the written word. Karmana had always entertained ideas of military theory and strategy, but the butchery of the Reaper War gave her renewed incentive to delve into the art of operational warfare... with the forlorn hope that the lessons of the Reaper War could at least be codified and preserved, if only to show what happens when military stagnation takes its toll. So far, over the last hundred years, Karmana has written some six essays on the subject of Asari military theory following the Reaper War.

She was researching and writing a seventh when the celebrations of the hundredth anniversary of the end of the war were announced on the Citadel. A gold mine, perhaps, but also a painful reminder of what happened, and how much the Asari had lost.

And how much the galaxy could still lose, were another conflict to break out.

Personality:
Even the most hardened and distant of soldiers can only take so much devastation and bloodshed in their military career. The breaking point for Karmana was the Reaper invasion, and subsequent fall of, Thessia, the home and heart of the asari civilisation. The Reaper War left great scars upon the planet and its people, almost none of whom did not know of several friends and family lost to, or even converted by, the Reaper forces. The defeat on Thessia led to a people who almost lost faith in their leaders, and the butchery of Thessia was burned into the consciousness of the asari, and would remain so for generations to come. With the loss of so many of her friends and family, Karmana has become morose and fatalistic, her once-sweet and carefree persona soured with the memories of the deaths of thousands. Nevertheless, flashes of her former self can occasionally come to the fore around those who can gain her trust and perhaps friendship.

Essays/Books Written After the Reaper War:
The Legacy of the Great War - Going Forward
Karmana's first work following the conclusion of the Reaper War, and her decision to begin writing about military history. Legacy of the Great War is more narrative-driven than her other works, but aims to tell a story about how the lessons of the Reaper War could be learned. Well-received by academics.

The Case for Command - High Command in a New Army
The first of Karmana's solely-military focused works, this is the first in the 'Case for' series, where Karmana aims to explain how the Republics' armed forces can be reformed and integrated into a modern, conventional army which matches that of the other major Citadel races. As perhaps explained in the title, Karmana's first work details how a centralised High Command is the first step to reforming and modernising the army - after all, no soldier can win a war without a general telling him what to do and how to do it.

The Case for Combined Arms

The Republics at War - An Analysis and Evaluation of Military Theory during the Reaper War

The Case for Armour and Air Power

The Case for Conscription

In Progress - The Case For The Three Levels of Warfare - Tactical, Operational, Strategic

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Location: Downtown Trenton, New Jersey
Time: Early Evening

---

"Thanks."

The rustling of a paper bag. The unmistakable sound of a cash register opening to deposit coinage inside.

Kseniya gave a small, polite smile to the teen behind the counter of the donut shop as she walked out, her ill-gotten gains in her hand. It was one of many vices for her, sugary food, though it was perhaps the oldest. She found a bench nearby and sat down on it, taking out a donut and biting into it, the sweet, sickly taste of the sugared icing melting on her tongue, the sweetness of the dough almost dripping from her mouth. God, she enjoyed it. It was the first thing she'd had to eat all day. She didn't need to eat, per se, but it was always nice to indulge in life's simple pleasures. The sun was setting in the skies over Trenton, New Jersey, and what cloud cover there was, was lit in magnificent arrays of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows, as though the sky itself were afire. She smiled and leaned back on the bench - a cool breeze blew through her long, blonde hair as she took another bite of the donut. Inside her jacket, her PPK rested easily inside its hard leather chest holster, for easy access. She wasn't allowed to carry it, of course, but the less the cops on the street knew, the better. Their concern was petty crime and the odd murder and robbery, not dealing with the likes of her. She reckoned even if she was found to be carrying a gun, most of the local cops on the beat would simply turn a blind eye to it under a bit of pressure. Pressure was the best dissuasion technique...

Her phone buzzed and vibrated in its pocket. Frowning, Rubis took it out, and clicked the home button to check what was going on. A new text, from an unknown number. Instinctively, Rubis' eyes darted about, wondering whether she was being tailed by someone, or something - nothing immediately suspicious stuck out in her mind, so she opened the text.

Call this number at the payphone.

She looked down the street, at what she assumed was the payphone in question. She raised an eyebrow, and finished her donut before putting her phone back inside her jacket and walking down towards the payphone, still alerted and on the lookout for anything suspicious. Perhaps she was being followed... but by someone who didn't want to harm her, at least not immediately. Perhaps it was a job offer, though usually those were through other channels, often by crooked employees of federal agencies, or by those in her network - it was seldom that she was contacted via a fucking payphone of all things. What was this, the 1990s? The fucking mafia or something? She walked over and put in a couple quarters, enough for a call for a few minutes. She hesitated before taking out her phone, but eventually, she did so, and punched in the number... the ring tone was agonisingly long. Finally, just as she was about to give up, the call was answered.

"What d'ya hear, what d'ya say... You got the text, I see. Was concerned about getting the wrong number, y'know, girl. Gotta say, business ain't what it used t'be round here. Gone quiet."

She knew the voice instantly and smirked, shaking her head in disbelief. She had been joking earlier, but no shit, it was for real, it was the fucking Nostra. Johnny Tisarelli. "This had better be good, Tiss. You remember what happened last time you and I had a chat. You coming out from that little cave you and yours hid in?"

"Hehe... tha's the Roob I know. 'Ey, the feds might think they've got the upper hand around here, but man, they don't know the half of it, specially now that the Hounds and all that shit are around. They've been great in gettin' the feds' attention away from us. Now listen, I've been gettin' t'gether the old boys and reformin' the crews, and I need your help. Some slimy cocksuckers took over Corazzo Engineering whilst I was hidin', y'know the one, the big buildin' firm out by the riverside, yeah?"

"Let me guess, you want those... ahem, slimy cocksuckers dealt with, mhm? It'll cost you, Tiss."

"Momma always said nothin' in life was ever free. I gotcha on that score."

"Anything else, Tiss?"

"Y'know, if ever ya wanted a place to stay-"

"Not. Happening." There was a laugh from the other end of the phone line.

"Worth a shot. Call me when you get that done. I'll introduce ya to the new boys, alright?" The phone hung up, and Rubis slotted the receiver back into its holder. Jesus Christ, what was she thinking? Tisarelli had never done all that much good by her, but still, she couldn't exactly turn him down - fuck knows what he'd tell the feds about her more... illicit activities in exchange for some sweet, sweet cash. Money greased more palms than anything else, especially in this business - without money, you were useless; with it, you could do whatever you wanted - for a price, of course. Rubis took another bite of her donut as she walked down the street back to the bench, flipping through her phone for any information on Corazzo Engineering, the old construction firm Tisarelli and his lackey de Bono - or as Kseniya used to say, Boner - ran back in the late 90s and early Noughties. She was in luck. Sitting back down, she read through a news article that dated back to 2013, where it stated that Corazzo Engineering had been taken over by Liam and Padraig O'Shaughnessy. It was intriguing to say the least - de Bono's death in 2013 had opened a can of worms regarding Corazzo's future, especially with regards to some debts that the company had run up with a local materials firm that the Shaughnessy brothers had connections with - had Liam and Padraig agreed to buy the company to excuse the debts? And why hadn't Tisarelli stopped this? Did he even know Boner had been running a sinking ship?

Rubis took another bite of her donut, and looked up at the sky... and its hues of red. "Czerwony, jak krew."

---

Location: Corazzo Engineering construction site, Duck Island, Trenton, NJ
Time: Mid-Evening, approximately 21:30

"Stop here. Keep the change."

Rubis handed the taxi driver a ten dollar note, and got out of the car. A red Citroen... couldn't even get decent cars these days for a night of bloody business like this. She lit a cigarette and looked over at the steel shell that marked Corazzo's newest project - a high-rise on the outskirts of Duck Island, next to the riverside... A call from Tisarelli had confirmed that the marks were there to check up on the work... and to check up on some faulty accounting. The local foreman, a guy named Worthington, was on call, waiting for the brothers to arrive... Rubis didn't envy him one bit. When it came to roughing folks up, the Irish were worse than the Nostra, that was for damned sure. She walked over to the side of the road, and watched the site carefully from underneath a wide-brimmed hat - all that could be seen of her face was the low orange glow of a lit cigarette, and the clouds of smoke. For all the guys on the site knew, she was just a local hooker, with her blonde hair and her cheap tobacco, and her heels. It wasn't flattering, that's for sure, but her long overcoat was the perfect cover for her pistol... tonight, Irishmen would die, and the Nostra would reclaim that which was theirs by right and blood ties. Boner had run a sinking ship, but the Irish weren't to gain a foothold in Jersey... hell no.

It was odd. Last time Kseniya had worked for Johnny Tisarelli, things had gone sour. She'd ended up putting a bullet in his con's chest, she recalled... Jackie Maggiore, the rat. The FBI had turned up on a... 'routine' drug hit, and Rubis had been forced to shoot her way out - Tiss had begged and pleaded with her that he wasn't responsible, that he'd only found out Maggiore was a rat after he'd been seen talking with an agent that very day! It had taken every ounce of respect she had for the man - and a lot of money - to spare his life. And now, here she was again, Tisarelli's hitwoman. Still, he was right. Nothing in life came free, and mafia work was profitable, that was for damned sure. She could afford to splash out with it... She watched as a black BMW pulled up. Blacked out windows. Four men, two in suits, two in what looked like tracksuits. The brothers Grimm had arrived. They walked over to the gate guard and flashed ID in his face... The gate was open. She walked over towards the gate... the guard eyed her up.

"Who're you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, handsome. I'm just waiting for a client... he said he'd meet me here." She smiled and batted her lids at the guard, who smirked.

"That so, huh. Wanna wait inside?"

An opportunity dawned... she intended to seize it with both hands. No doubt he had his own plans in mind for her... but she could easily overpower him. "Oh... that's very kind of you... I don't think he'll turn up at this rate." She walked over to the door, and she heard the key turn, the lock open and the handle slide back. The guard beckoned her inside, his smirk still on his face. When she was inside, he turned to the controls for the shutters on his guard hut.

"That's a mighty shame. Still... waste not, want not, huh honey?" The guard turned back to see Kseniya, far from indulging in his fantasy with him, instead had her PPK aimed directly at him. "Wait-", was all he could stammer out as she pulled the trigger. A suppressed clap. A single 7.65mm bullet. It punched clean through his skull and into his brain; he was dead before he hit the floor. She walked over and took the guard's keyring, and with it, she unlocked the door that led into the yard. The gate was closed, and the Irishmen were inside, no doubt heading towards the building site. Kseniya slipped the pistol back into her coat, opened the door and quietly walked down the steps into the dirt at the bottom, before walking slowly towards the building site, where she could see the Irishmen and Worthington holding a... conversation. Worthington was up against a pillar, with the two thugs flanking him... she walked closer, trying to keep the noise down. One of the thugs had a gun - a Glock from the look of it pressed up against the foreman's head - whilst the other had a crowbar in his hand. The brothers were raving about how 'money was being siphoned away' and 'things just weren't working out properly' for which, of course, they blamed the foreman. Dumb bastard probably didn't even know what was going on. But then something caught her attention - one of the brothers started yelling about how the 'Grey Watch weren't getting their due, and you know what that means'. The Grey Watch were in on this? That was odd - she thought the Watch were confined to the NYC area, and they were the techy sort, not the dumb-bastard-on-a-building-site type? What were they doing out here in Jersey, and connected with a dig of all things? Did the Shaughnessy brothers have a stake with the Watch?

It didn't matter for now. She walked towards the group, stockinged legs and heels underneath her grey fur coat. "Gentlemen? Can I help you in this fine evening?" All five of them looked over at her. The thug with the gun eyed her up.

"Worthington, you son of a bitch... you got a whore of yours?"

The foreman's terrified eyes turned to Kseniya. "N-No... who the fuck are you, and how did you get past the guard?!"

"He thought with his cock, not his head. That's how. I have a message for you all from Johnny Tisarelli... Chew on these." And with that, Rubis opened fire. Five suppressed shots. Five dead bodies.

Tisarelli, you owe me big time. Kseniya lit another cigarette and took a long drag, before walking over to search through the bodies...