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Physical Details
Standing at 194 cm (6'4") and weighing 83 kg (183 lb), Marivea is thinner and more spindly than your average turian thanks to growing up in Digeris' weaker surface gravity. She uses a set of customized Ariake Technologies medium Mercenary Armor. Outside of armor, her attire leans heavily on the baggy, practical side with human influences and turian military surplus.

Personal History
Marivea was born in Apparitus on Digeris. She studied computer science before beginning her national service at 15, serving the Apparitus police force for eleven years, first as a patrol officer and later attaining SWAT marksman and varren handler certifications. In 2147, she transitioned to military service for the remainder of her national service.

With the national service behind her and a decent range of qualifications, Marivea decided to stay in the military, applied for and made the cut to turian special forces, attaining the post of platoon sergeant in 2155. Which is where the Relay 314 incident caught her, with her platoon joining the first wave to land on the surface of Shanxi. In its early stages, mere days after the turians had gained a foothold on the planet, Marivea's unit was tasked with neutralizing a staging ground for a human counterattack. As the target was located in a dammed valley, the decision to blow the dam and flood the encampment was made, being easier, cheaper and less environmentally destructive than deorbiting a piece of debris and dropping it on the target. But the intelligence analysis department made a severe misstep, as what they marked a staging ground had in truth been an improvised medical complex. After the armistice, the intelligence Major who signed off on the strike managed to cover his back and everyone involved in that incident was thrown out of the military without as much as a "Thank you for your service".

One day in late 2159 while working as a short-order cook on Ilium, Marivea ran into a collection of malcontents who were in the process of forming a mercenary band. The crowd sat right with her, so she packed what she had and kissed Ilium goodbye. Though made up of a platoon's worth of questionable individuals, the group - Zenith Security - were good enough to survive their jobs and smart enough to keep their activities mostly legal and not to piss on the chips of any of the major Terminus mercenary organizations or the Systems Alliance once they established a presence across the Traverse, growing in size to a company over two decades of operation.

A rift eventually formed between two groups within Zenith as members aged and left, one preferring a controlled approach, the other opting for a more aggressive stance. Marivea tried to mend the rift before it tore the company apart, but the minds of turians and salarians did not seem compatible with batarians and krogan, not to mention the humans who seemed incompatible with each other more often than not. Seeing no solution, Marivea bode her comrades a sour farewell in late 2179 and left the band on good terms before the company split into two separate entities a year later, the moderates retaining the Zenith Security brand while the splinter faction formed their own company, Supernova.

Having left Zenith behind, she turned to freelancing, moving from the Traverse and into Alliance space proper, where driving back and in some cases hunting down batarian raiding parties proved to be a constant source of employment until she got the offer from ExoGeni, presumably on the back of her work against the Hegemony slavers.

Combat Analysis
"If the enemy doesn't know you were there until the next day or until you start shooting, you did well." Marivea holds these words - spoken by her training officer, then-Lieutenant colonel Habsis - sacrosant. A combat pragmatist to an extreme degree, if it must come to shooting, she prefers to keep her distance and hinder the enemy with tech to make picking them off from afar easier.

Reason for Vacating Previous Situation
Not vacating a previous position as much as completing one contract and moving onto the next, Marivea saw the ExoGeni offer as a breath of fresh air, potentially adding more "smart" work on top of providing security and working with a regular team again.
Vigdis studied the captain for a second or two, deliberating on whether to tell her the truth or what she wanted to hear. “Vaguely.” She chose to be truthful, tightening the last strap on the current crate into the system and sprinting toward the weapon, noting the red stripe on the magazine indicating a load of armor-piercing darts. At that point, it had become clear that the attackers’ rules of engagement made no distinction between combatants and unarmed bystanders. Donning the sling around her shoulders as she exited the Jotunheim's shuttle bay into the main hangar, she used it to push the Jackal into her shoulder and took cover behind the ramp, dialed up the power, took aim at the center of the shield…

…and missed.

In the stressful situation, she pulled the trigger too hard, the weapon jerked as she fired and the dart merely skimmed the side of the shield and skipped off to who-knew-where. With an annoyed grunt, she withdrew behind the ramp - just in time to avoid a burst of return fire, the bullets screaming past with the telltale cracks of supersonic rounds and out into the fjord. For a few seconds, she just stared at the bit of space the bullets had crossed, the same bit of space the right side of her chest had been occupying just moments before. After a shout brought her back into the present, she rifled through the pouch where she kept a few spare magazines: Red, red - goddamnit - finally, blue! Vigdis swapped the dart magazine for one with anti-personnel flechettes and peeked out of cover as soon as the return fire subsided. What she was about to try would’ve worked better with steel buckshot, but you work with what you have, not what you’d like to have. Aiming at the floor under the droid’s shield, she emptied the entire magazine before retreating back into cover again, each of the eight trigger pulls sending a volley of almost 50 2x35 mm flechettes, intending for the flechettes to ricochet upward and hit the three attackers legs, bypassing the shield and droid. Due to the wide horizontal spread and nature of what she was doing, she didn’t even have to bother with proper trigger squeeze. She didn’t even need to seriously harm them, all she needed was for them to stop paying attention to other people in the hangar who had guns.
With the intern and the mech suit pilot handling the cargo loading, Vigdis ran back into the ship and strapped back into the service rigging - it looked similar to a parachute harness, allowing the wearer to both work suspended as well as carry a large number of tools, the rigging spreading their weight out over the entire body - and started feeding the crates’ weight into the computer so the maneuver calculations wouldn’t be off. Being in the ship somehow felt safer, perhaps because it wouldn’t be leaving without her, or maybe because she was shielded from the cold wind. “Hey, I want to get out of here as much as anyone else, but launching without clearance can be dangerous. If the airspace isn’t clear, we could end up crashing in a ball of fire and tangled metal.” Vigdis cautioned. She vividly remembered her father showing her ship disaster documentaries as a kid and explaining the causes, lessons learned and why such a thing couldn’t happen to him and she needn’t worry. Ignoring the ATC was something no software patch or design feature could prevent.

“The fighting’s not here yet, but it sure feels like it’s right around the corner.” Vigdis replied unhelpfully to the captain’s inquiry, “If we seal up the ship, we might hold out for a few minutes. Could’ve been longer, but someone decided the spaceship needed windows of all things. So whatever we’re doing, let’s do it fast.” She added as she retrieved a bundle of tie downs and ratchets and started fastening down the boxes wherever the intern and the mech pilot put them. They could be moved to the cargo bay later, when they weren’t in an active combat zone.
cease

Leave it to me to open my goddamn mouth and someone ends up taking psychic damage because of it.
I can't help it, but that image is the saddest-looking krogan I've ever seen. She looks like a child when the whole family pulls a prank on them.
@Heat thought about making a Batarian, lol.

We already have a krogan who is a decent person, let the zoo grow. A bit of character conflict adds spice.
Love how all but two characters submitted so far have at least one instance of beating the tar out of batarians somewhere in their backstory. Nothing like shared hobbies to truly bind the group together.
‘Like hell I’m going out there to get shot.’ Was the first thing that came to Vigdis’ mind before the part of her brain that never left the military got behind the controls. The hangar doors weren’t open yet, which meant the ship was not going anywhere without her if she kept track of that and if whoever the attackers were made it to the hangar now, she’d be screwed anyway regardless of if she was on board or in the hangar. “On it.” She gave up trying to find a plate carrier in the armory - someone was going to be complaining about ‘misuse’ of service access codes when this all blows over - and headed back out, leaving the Jackal and her service rigging by the loading gate. If the attackers got to them, she’d stand little chance in a fight anyway. At least if she was unarmed she wouldn’t get shot right out of the gate if the unknown attackers’ goal wasn’t killing everything that had something to do with the ship. At least she assumed the Jotunheim was the reason they were there.

The cold was something she never got used to. Having spent most of her life in Venus’ underground habitats or hopping between wrecks aboard the Aurora, both of which being self-contained environments, bad weather was never an issue. “Captain, do we have any clue how many or how far away from here they are or if we’re getting any help this week?” She asked as she reached the door leading to the office that handled loading and unloading. At least Norway had a standing army, unlike her family’s native Iceland, so there was cause for some hope, she thought as she started banging on the door. ”Hey? Hey guy! Open up!” Of course he couldn’t hear her, it was a blast door meant to protect the office’s occupants if something went wrong with the ship in the hangar. Running back to her things to get a pipe wrench and back to the office made her feel like Pheidippides, if Pheidippides wore grease-stained coveralls, and by the time she made it back to the office, the cold air was burning her trachea like she was breathing ground glass. Two years out of the service did a number on her fitness, she was getting a gym membership first thing in the morning, she promised herself as she was let into the office before explaining the problem to the poor intern she found inside. “Found a guy who can operate the loaders, on our way back to the ship.” She managed to report back to captain Kadıoğlu as she tried to catch up on the oxygen debt.
I am a little puzzled that an assault rifle is her sidearm. Seems like she's got a lot of weight on those back holsters.

The reasoning was a fallback weapon for close range. Phaeston pretty much fit perfectly: turian, high RoF, fluff mentions recoil dampers.
Carrying two or more long guns is neither unseen in universe nor particularly impossible, but I'll swap it out if it's a problem.

Here she is. Fontmeme banner size is 100 for those curious.
Edit: 22/12/2022: Fixed a word, added dates to all entries in the "Record" section and added a fourth, entirely negative connection.
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