Omega was the definition of a shithole. If anybody tried to deny that, then they'd be lying. Marcus Vanir knew that as well as the next person, but he had stayed here for a couple of years because despite of the level of crime and lawlessness, Omega was probably the safest part of the galaxy for someone like him. Being a deserter of both the Alliance and Cerberus was a lethal combination that meant damn near every human in existence would have some sort of personal grudge with him; He knew for a fact that the minute he left Omega, he'd have both groups on his tail fairly quickly. So he stayed. It wasn't the nicest place to live, and the work was immoral and often quite gruesome, but the sheer safety and anonymity the place granted him was more than enough of a reason for him to set up his home there.
Or so he thought. Recently, he’d heard news of Cerberus agents inquiring about him, searching the planet for him so they could make sure he never let out any of their secrets – not that he had ever been a high even rank to know anything too confidential. After all, he had served under the resurrected Commander Shepard himself; that alone was probably worthy of him getting a Cerberus hit squad after him. These rumours had led him to pursue options he would never normally have considered, which in turn sent him crawling to the Circle of Absolution.
Of course he had heard about the Circle during his time here, it was one of the most notorious factions on the whole planet. Thankfully, he had managed to stay under their radar for the majority of his stay – until of course circumstance forced him to contact them. He was currently on his way to a meeting with a turian named Ticus Rakaelum, who would supposedly be supervising his initiation to the faction. Afterlife was another place he usually tried to avoid. It had a reputation for being the haunt of many high profile crime bosses – exactly the sort of people Marcus had attempted to avoid until now. He approached the door and was stopped by a bouncer, who simply stared at him. Marcus stared back for a few seconds before speaking.
“The names Vanir, I’m here to see Rakaelum and don’t pretend you don’t know.”
The bouncer nodded once then stepped aside, allowing Marcus to enter the club. The atmosphere was overpowering – the flashing lights and pulsating music would overwhelm anybody. He refused to get caught up in it though, knowing exactly where he needed to go. Striding over to a private lounge, he was instantly greeted by a batarian bodyguard.
“Marcus Vanir, here to see Titus Rakaelum.” He grunted.
“Ah yes, you’re expected.” The bodyguard intoned. “He’s just through those doors.
Marcus was slightly taken aback when he stepped into the room. He had heard plenty of rumours about the turian but had never actually seen him. He was older than he had imagined, but the air of authority he projected was unmistakable.
“Mr Vanir, take a seat.”
Marcus did so, and waited for the turian to speak again. He knew enough about people in command to understand that they preferred to talk rather than listen.
“I have to say,” The turian said, “You have quite the impressive resume. Ex-Alliance, ex-Cerberus, you seem to have a reputation for abandoning your duties. I hope that won’t be an issue here.”
“No sir.” Marcus grunted.
“Excellent. I’m taking quite a large risk on you, Mr Vanir, and I expect it to pay off. Now, I hear you have a specific request about your manner of payment?” Ticus said inquisitively.
“That’s right, sir” Marcus said in a monotone. “I don’t care too much about credits – I have enough to live off. I want protection. Cerberus are already after me and I don’t fancy being killed by them.”
Ticus paused, pressing his fingers together in quiet contemplation. After a minute or so he spoke again.
“If you prove reliable, I can assure you that nobody will bother you: Cerberus, Alliance or otherwise.”
Marcus let out an internal sigh of relief – that was all he had needed from these people.
“Thank you, sir. So, what are my orders?”
Or so he thought. Recently, he’d heard news of Cerberus agents inquiring about him, searching the planet for him so they could make sure he never let out any of their secrets – not that he had ever been a high even rank to know anything too confidential. After all, he had served under the resurrected Commander Shepard himself; that alone was probably worthy of him getting a Cerberus hit squad after him. These rumours had led him to pursue options he would never normally have considered, which in turn sent him crawling to the Circle of Absolution.
Of course he had heard about the Circle during his time here, it was one of the most notorious factions on the whole planet. Thankfully, he had managed to stay under their radar for the majority of his stay – until of course circumstance forced him to contact them. He was currently on his way to a meeting with a turian named Ticus Rakaelum, who would supposedly be supervising his initiation to the faction. Afterlife was another place he usually tried to avoid. It had a reputation for being the haunt of many high profile crime bosses – exactly the sort of people Marcus had attempted to avoid until now. He approached the door and was stopped by a bouncer, who simply stared at him. Marcus stared back for a few seconds before speaking.
“The names Vanir, I’m here to see Rakaelum and don’t pretend you don’t know.”
The bouncer nodded once then stepped aside, allowing Marcus to enter the club. The atmosphere was overpowering – the flashing lights and pulsating music would overwhelm anybody. He refused to get caught up in it though, knowing exactly where he needed to go. Striding over to a private lounge, he was instantly greeted by a batarian bodyguard.
“Marcus Vanir, here to see Titus Rakaelum.” He grunted.
“Ah yes, you’re expected.” The bodyguard intoned. “He’s just through those doors.
Marcus was slightly taken aback when he stepped into the room. He had heard plenty of rumours about the turian but had never actually seen him. He was older than he had imagined, but the air of authority he projected was unmistakable.
“Mr Vanir, take a seat.”
Marcus did so, and waited for the turian to speak again. He knew enough about people in command to understand that they preferred to talk rather than listen.
“I have to say,” The turian said, “You have quite the impressive resume. Ex-Alliance, ex-Cerberus, you seem to have a reputation for abandoning your duties. I hope that won’t be an issue here.”
“No sir.” Marcus grunted.
“Excellent. I’m taking quite a large risk on you, Mr Vanir, and I expect it to pay off. Now, I hear you have a specific request about your manner of payment?” Ticus said inquisitively.
“That’s right, sir” Marcus said in a monotone. “I don’t care too much about credits – I have enough to live off. I want protection. Cerberus are already after me and I don’t fancy being killed by them.”
Ticus paused, pressing his fingers together in quiet contemplation. After a minute or so he spoke again.
“If you prove reliable, I can assure you that nobody will bother you: Cerberus, Alliance or otherwise.”
Marcus let out an internal sigh of relief – that was all he had needed from these people.
“Thank you, sir. So, what are my orders?”