Still making some relatively minor edits to the background which i should have finalized by tonight.
Name: Mark Russo
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 44 - Born 2134
Class: Soldier
Appearance: With a chiseled expression and a dry, if abrasive, sense of humor delivered with a low growl, Mark can be intimidating to some since he stands at six feet before his armor is even on. He’s past caring about his looks very much, having the mindset that “At my age, if anything is going to attract a woman, it wont be my pretty face.” So, while not in his battered-to-shit armor (which isnt too often, hes very paranoid,) his “casual wear” consists of navy blue BDU pants, a form fitting grey t-shirt under a vintage OD green field jacket and matching baseball cap. Despite being a bit past his prime, Mark maintains a muscled physique with regular workouts, it being necessary to do his job to the best of his ability… should he ever actually try to do his best. In addition, Mark remains in a near constant state of inebriation. With a flask (and cigarettes) always on his person, he’s never quite drunk, but never without a good buzz either.
Background: [edits pending] Born to a blue collar working family on Earth, Mark was a young boy when humanity discovered mass effect physics and began its forays into the deeper reaches of space. Like many people during the age, he had a deep fascination with what could possibly be found farther into the solar system. He had no means to follow his dreams of space travel however. He wasnt an especially good student and didnt excel at anything. He was just average.
As time went on however an option opened up. The Systems Alliance was founded, providing anyone a path into space by simply joining the military. Mark signed up as soon as he turned 18 along with several good friends who shared his dreams of glory and discovery. Mark soon discovered that while he wasnt smart enough to lead the way to the future in a laboratory, he excelled in the military. He soaked in every aspect of his training and strove to be the best at all of it. And he succeeded. Mark quickly achieved the rank of Staff Sergeant and given command of the squad he and his friends had been assigned to.
Soon, humans made their first encounter with another intelligent race. Unfortunately it was a violent encounter with the turians, which sparked what is now called the First Contact War. Mark’s unit was temporarily reassigned to the 2nd fleet to fill out the reinforcement ships. He was assigned to a ship under the command of one Lt. Commander Carson. And though they met by chance and he was only able to associate with the man for a brief time, they were quickly becoming friends
During the invasion Mark’s unit was selected to carry out a search and rescue mission for VIPs. The turian forces quickly picked up on the human troops however, and moved to engage. Over the course of the fierce battle, the human platoon sustained heavy losses and soon only a handful of men remained including Mark. He and his squad refused to surrender and held the small research outpost against several turian attacks. The human troops continued to fall one by one, but the turians could not break through the small defensive line, in no small part, because Commander Eric Carson managed to deliver a devastating orbital strike before his frigate was destroyed by the turian fleet. Shortly after, turian forces decided the outpost was no longer worth the cost of life and ordered their own orbital strike in turn, putting a swift end to the resistance. Mark was one of only a few survivors, and to this day he cant help but blame himself for the death of his squad mates, which included all of his oldest friends from Earth.
A month later, human reinforcements arrive at Shanxi and break the turian occupation. Mark, who was being held in a prison camp on the ground, used the opportunity to lead a prison break, and with the help of soldiers and civilians alike, took control of the camp back from the now stranded turians. Still furious at the loss of his men and filled with a hatred for the alien invaders, Mark personally executed the remaining turians that had been captured during the prison break.
Before the humans and turians can engage in a full scale interplanetary war, the Citadel Council intervenes and negotiates a reluctant peace. As things slowly calm down, the Alliance learns of Mark’s actions, including the execution of the unarmed turian prisoners and is dishonorably discharged in order to save face with their newly discovered neighbors.
Dishonored and abandoned by his military, alone, and filled with conflicting emotions about the loss of his friends and alien life, Mark decided he might as well do the only thing he knew how. Keep fighting. He roamed the galaxy, drifting from planet to planet, selling his skills as a killer to anyone who could pay. At first he planned to work exclusively for humans, but he quickly realized that was too limiting. Aliens comprised most of the galaxy at the time, and if he was to be successful hed just have to suck it up. Over the years his hatred began to dwindle as he discovered that aliens werent so different after all. They could be just as corrupt and twisted as humans and vice versa. He realized that it didnt matter where you were, there was always some slimy little shit ready to pay good money for the head of some other slimy little shit’s head. Regardless of race. And so his hatred has been replaced by cynicism and distrust for everybody, including humans.
Mark has been dealing with the dregs of society for over two decades now. Security, assassinations, piracy, the works. Twenty years of fighting and killing for money or just because someone pissed him off. And though he’s getting on in his years, his skills have been honed to a razors edge, and his tactical prowess is second to none. He doesnt turn down jobs that are beneath him, but he doesnt exactly try very hard when he’s assigned weak details either.
While working a security detail for a small time weapons dealer who was attending a lavish boat party on Khaje, Mark found himself caught up in the affairs of an up and coming mercenary group called Nova. They intended to steal information from the owner of the yacht who was some kind of big shot in the black market. Things didn't go quite according to plan however. Though they retrieved the information, their target activated the vehicle's self destruct sequence, hoping to drag everybody on it to a watery death. Mark assisted members of the Nova crew in escaping, and used this to convince them to let him join their little crew. He believed this might offer him a second chance at being something more than just a gun for hire, he'd be a gun for hire with partners.
Unfortunately the partnership didn't last. A few months later some of outfit's founding members left, and one by one the crew went their separate ways. Mark was alone in the galaxy once again, and though he hated to admit it, the dissolution of the group had an affect on him. During his brief time working with Nova he had begun to grow fond of a few of them. For the first time in 20 years he had started to feel a connection with the men and women of the Tyrus that he hadn't felt since his discharge from the Alliance. It stirred some of the old coals of bitterness that had lay dormant since those early days after his fall from honor, and he returned to his work with a vengeance. Where before he wold carry out assignments with a detached coldness, now he would go out of his way to terrorize his targets when hunting a bounty or assassination target. Some of Mark's old fury had risen again.
But as the years past, it was becoming more difficult to find work, the council races were cracking down on the criminals, vigilantes, and soldiers of fortune where they could, and had their sights set on the Terminus Systems know. They even hired a new company to help clean up the garbage. Siame Industries was having a profound and annoying effect on the mercenary market. Competition was stiff, and though his freelance approach to business kept him off the radar for the most part, the big outfits were getting their members the best jobs, and offered some measure of protection from Siame and the council. Embittered and annoyed, Mark spends his days competing for work the best way he knows how in the ass end of the galaxy, by gunning down anything in his way brutally and efficiently.
Weapons and Equipment:
Primary- M-96 Mattock
Secondary- M-5 Phalanx
Other-
-Carbon fiber combat knife
-Fragmentation grenades
-Flash bang grenades
-Smoke grenades
Armor- Heavy Predator, upgraded with Kinetic Buffer- Heavily modified over the years with scavenged plates since hes had the same armor for who-knows-how-long. Its original appearance is indiscernible.
Powers
Adrenaline Rush
AP ammo
Incendiary ammo
Disruptor ammo
Cryo ammo
Talents
Assault training
Fitness
Assault rifle
Pistol
Sniper rifle
Combat armor
