18+ Brothers in Arms: A Mass Effect Role-Play

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    Archer Drake

    Parkour Enthusiast
    If you wish to join, go to http://skyrimforum.com/sf/threads/brothers-in-arms.83131/ and apply.

    This is a mature role-play, so profanity, violence, and moderate gore is allowed. Characters can form relationships if it has been discussed in the OOC thread. However, no smut will be tolerated.

    Brothers in Arms
    The Reaper war is over, and the fabled Commander Shepard is long gone, survived by his crew. Most of the destruction caused by the Reaper war has been repaired, including all known Mass Relays. After along span of peace across the galaxy, a new threat has arisen. Biotics have been assaulted and kidnapped for no apparent reason. Many of the abducted simply disappear or they are found tortured to death far from their homes.

    The Council has dispatched C-Sec officers across the Citadel, but these disappearances and murders are on too small of a scale for them to warrant the creation of a task force to track down and stop the criminal. Over the past year, 60 cases have been opened across the galaxy, 35 of which have been Asari.

    Cast:

    Archer Drake as Jonathan "JV" Vakarian

    Zweihander as Vserad "Monty" Tavian

    Orien Terrik as Unit 5555-55 "David"

    Keidivh as Saetha T'soni

    EpicVakarian as Rosie "The Bull" Fox

    Archer Drake as Sun'Raenar vas Yaska


    Andre Marek as Kristina MacDonald

     
    Last edited:

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    Cluster: Crescent Nebula

    System: Tasale

    Planet: Teukria

    Shadow Broker’s Base


    Silence. That was all that seemed to fill the desolate halls of Teukria’s mining facilities these days. Gone were the bustling worker drones, the constant thrum of the drills. The swearing of engineers as they went about their repairs. Only silence. That was how many planets were after the Reaper Invasion. Silent. Countless planets once touched with sentient life were empty, abandoned or purged by the ruthless demons from the Dark Space.


    However not all life had left this desolate planet it seemed, as a dull blue glow began to light the main hall leading to the overseers office. Glyph made his way through the dusty hallway, travelling at a lazy pace before phasing to the other side of the door to the office, where multiple terminals were opened, with blue hands and dragging and tossing files and documents at great speed, taking moments to analyze them before gleaning the information she needs.


    Greetings Shadow Broker. It has been nearly a full cycle since you’ve moved from your station. Rest is recommended to continue to operate at peak efficiency.” The VI floated next to the weary Asari, its holographic form spinning and shifting as it observed her vitals.


    Thank you Glyph, but please do not waste my time with such observations again.” Liara had to wonder how bad she must look to warrant the concern of a virtual program. Saetha was always pestering her that she needed to get out more often. So had Shepard, before…


    Regardless, there was no time for rest. There was a new threat rearing its head in the galaxy, one that the Citadel was once again laughably ignorant of. Course it took a full scaled genocidal invasion to convince them the Reapers were real, suppose I’m the fool for thinking they’d be more perceptive now. Hours spent pouring over files from nearly half the galaxy only helped to confirm her fears. Biotics were disappearing. Not enough to warrant galaxy wide fear. But enough to raise serious suspicion for someone who saw the whole picture. Which was her, as always.


    Has Feron obtained the information we needed from Illium?” Her voice was hollow and uninterested as she continued to look over another document concerning the Terminus System.


    Affiramtive.” After a brief flash from the VI, a new document was brought up, with the city Nos Astra and many useless statistics she quickly glossed over. It was near the bottom that she paused, finding something that sent a chill down her spine. Of all planets with similar cases, Illium had a ludicrous amount, accounting for nearly a third of all cases she had observed in the recovered systems.


    Below this statistic were links that led to the cases opened. Pictures of mutilated Asari corpses, each in some way a gifted or experienced Biotic. Abduction cases, with disturbing casualty reports for officers who pursued the case. This was the confirmation she needed. Something was preying on Biotics, and Illium was the perfect place for such a hunt. Filled to the brim with gifted Asari, and independent from the Asari Republics, which meant no major investigation on an intergalactic scale. Yet it was the final file that caused her to nearly jump up out of her seat. The last case was opened only hours before this was sent.


    Glyph, we have a fresh lead. Recall Feron, he’s likely already being hunted. Have him relocated to safehouse 4-7B. Do we have any agents or old friends we can call upon right now? We wait and we’ll lose our chance. We will need to gather them at Nos Astra in Safehouse 6-1A, it is the only place where we can communicate with them safely.


    Negative Shadow Broker. All former crew members are preoccupied with Reconstruction or MIA. Probability of assistance is 0.8656%.” With another flash Glyph removed the dossiers, replacing them with new ones. “But new dossiers have been gathered per request. These are the candidates most likely to succeed in your investigation.” Six dossiers filled the terminals surrounding Liara, bringing a wide range of individuals. Turians, Drell, humans, and unsurprisingly her dear sister. She had been on the trail as soon as she had heard the rumors of missing Biotics, and had been hunting leads down since.


    Glyph opened the first dossier, bringing an image that brought a nostalgic smile to the enigmatic Broker’s face. “John… I haven’t seen him since he was in the growth pod.” She enhanced the picture to get a better look at him. A striking resemblance to his father unsurprisingly, but with eyes and markings that showed his time spent in the Eezo.


    As you know, Jonathan has been trained in combat by his father, Garrus ‘Archangel’ Vakarian. He is an expert marksman and combatant, as deadly as his father in battle, and a biotic. He is however not the best in team situations, shown by his many reprimands from superiors. He is currently on Illium, searching for Biotic training.


    Liara sat back in her stiff chair, tapping her fingers across the arm rest as she pondered him. If he was anything like his father, he’d be a great asset. But did she really want to drag his son into such a situation… If anything happened to him, she’d have a lot to answer for.


    Like you don’t already?


    Send an encrypted code to John with Council credentials to get his attention, we’ll be needing him.


    Done. Next we have Vserad “Monty” Tavian. Once in service to Aria T’Loak, the Drell is an expert in all manners of engineering from weapons maintenance to mass effect field generators on a frigate. While not an expert in combat, he has shown survival skills in growing up in Omega, and quite skilled in using his Omnitool. He is docked on Illium, likely looking for a new line of work.


    Then let us give him something to work on. An expert like that will be sorely needed if this mystery turns out to be as deadly as I suspect. See to it he is brought in to the meeting point.” She swiped the dossier away, moving on to the next. She was surprised to find herself staring at a Geth. The first and only Geth Spectre in existence. “Davey? An actual Spectre? Is he not on assignment?”


    Unknown, but it is on Illium. It is a skilled Infiltrator, and respected Spectre. If convinced, it will be a strong ally.” This was a promising lead, to have an actual Spectre on the job would make things much easier, especially one that knew how to remain unseen.


    Send him the same code as John, get him to the meeting place. He’s no Shepard, but one Spectre is better than none…” So far this team seemed promising, but getting them to work together, let alone agree to it, would be difficult.


    What is next then?


    I’d imagine you’d know Shadow Broker.” The VI said with a hint of sarcasm. Or was she just imagining that now?


    Ah, dearest Saetha. So my sister is still on Illium then?


    Affirmative, although her methods of investigation are somewhat… Crude.


    True, but my sister is a deadly Biotic and experienced soldier. She might have a shot at Spectre status herself if she didn’t love running around on my little errands. Tell her where she needs to be.


    I shall send the coordinates, and hope she doesn’t blow it up upon arrival. Speaking of collateral damage.” Another flash brought up the image of an N6 trooper with fiery hair and likely a matching temperament.


    Ah, Rosie. Vega has told me about the girl. She shows promise. A bit reckless, but then that can be an asset. I assume our Alliance codes are still up to date.” She cocked an eyebrow at Glyph.


    As always Broker. I shall send a message from ‘Alliance Command’. She will be at the Safehouse.


    Excellent. And last but not least?


    That would be Sun’Raenar vas Yaska, Shadow Broker.


    Liara did a double take as she looked at the name. “I didn’t see any Quarian in the dossier Glyph.


    That’s because there were none.” The dossier was brought up, showing the most curious sight. A Turian, with bionic legs, dressed in the garb of a Quarian. “Another Infiltrator, raised amongst the Quarian migrant fleet. Currently on Illium for unknown reasons, likely searching for equipmentr or resources for the fleet.


    Liara sat back as she brought up all the dossiers beside each other. A curious bunch this would be. But then again her crew had been unorthodox. And that was putting it mildly.


    It seems we have our team Glyph. Ensure they are at the safehouse in Nos Astra's 'servant' district. as soon as possible. We are running out of time. And quickly.” The servant district had always been run down. The dark underbelly of Illium's shining glory. It had only become more dangerous since the Reaper siege, and there were still plenty of scars from the battles waged in the streets there. A perfect place to remain unseen.

    OOC: Welcome all! Hope you enjoyed the intro! Feel free to go into what your character was up to on Illium beforehand, or you can just be heading through the servant slums to the safehouse. Let the horror begin! :D

    @Rydar Drake @EpicVakarian @Orien Terrik @Zweihander
     

    Archer Drake

    Parkour Enthusiast
    Pale white lights flickered along the landing strip less than a mile from Illium’s largest city, Nos Astra. A polished black shuttle effortlessly floated down to the surface, carrying the jet-like scream of thrusters alongside it. The typhoon of air rushing from beneath the craft scattered the few bodies that were unlucky enough to be on the boardwalk as the shuttle approached. They jogged ahead, clutching important devices, drinks, and whatever else they had.

    The sleek craft touched down with a dull thud, it’s driver cutting the power a few moments early. The occupants of the craft stumbled around as the craft landed heavily, spilling their drinks on the floor, or cursing at the sudden jolt. The shuttle’s wide bay door opened and it’s occupants strode out into the wide expanse of Illium. The craft had carried mostly Asari, but a few Humans and even a Krogan could be found in the mix. Last out of the shuttle was a young, dark gray skinned Turian with a heavy pack slung over his shoulders. His softly glowing purple eyes casually took in the scene about him, admiring Illium’s smooth, flowing architecture. He adjusted his backpack and brushed off his black pants, worried about dust on his outfit.

    The Turian stopped and chuckled to himself, he looked fine, he wasn’t about to go before a military leader or the Primarch. Johnathan shook his head and put on the black headset resting around his neck. He flicked on his Omnitool and started up one of his many music playlists. An old song from Earth’s twenty-first century started up with a heavy lead guitar line and a pounding bass, a song titled “Break” by Three Days Grace. John grinned as the main chorus of the song came in with a loud “Break!” He always loved Human music, especially what they called “Rock.”

    Johnathan made his way to the bustling city of Nos Astra, gawking at the hundreds of impossibly tall buildings covering the landscape. Illium was very different from the Citadel, but from what he’d heard from his father, Garrus, it shared many similarities with the Citadel, including crime and seedier areas crawling with low-lives and thugs. John shook his head, he wasn’t here for the sights. No, he needed the help of an Asari to further develop his biotic ability. Jack was a surprisingly good teacher, but her unorthodox methods only went so far with Turians. Technically, John was here two days early, but he wanted to spend time getting to know Nos Astra and the academy he was going to be studying at for the time being.

    Just as John reached the doors to the academy, his Omnitool flickered to life with a message. He expected to find the usual note from his parents wishing him well. Instead a message from the Council greeted his eyes with a set of coordinates to a seemingly random part of Illium.

    Why would the Council bother contacting me on Illium? They know I’m outside of their reach in the Galaxy. Did they find the assignment to Illium and figure I should learn from a Cabal instead? Is there something they need taken care of? If that’s the case why wouldn’t they call a Spectre? And why would they wait until I’m on the surface of Illium to contact me?


    John couldn’t make heads or tails of the strange message, but the encryption was legitimate. The Council was contacting him for whatever purpose and he was expected to answer. The young Turian quickly followed the coordinates through a rather unnerving area of Illium. The wreckage of the Reaper War was still very present here. Smashed and collapsed buildings littered the streets while mixing into the massive shards of destroyed Reapers. John shuddered as he found the dead carcass of a Marauder, it’s cold, synthetic eyes still staring straight ahead.

    How did Dad fight these things? How many of them did he know? Is this why he won’t talk about the Reaper War? About Shepard?


    Johnathan shook the thoughts from his mind and traded his headset for a Paladin pistol. While he didn’t expect to have to use it, he’d rather be armed in a place like this. He resettled the pack on his shoulders and gripped the Paladin. He was seriously starting to think that this “message” from the Council was a set up or a trap.

    Regardless of his feelings about the message, he needed to figure out if it was the Council, and if it wasn’t he needed to find whoever had the Council’s encryption codes. John took cover roughly a block from the coordinates and scanned the area. He didn’t find any snipers, in fact, the place was completely deserted. When he was absolutely certain he was the only living thing in the area, John approached the building the coordinates pointed to, putting up a biotic barrier and keeping near cover in the event he missed something…unfriendly.
     

    Archer Drake

    Parkour Enthusiast
    The sun glinted off the sleek, sloping lines of a massive hotel, it’s white-gray shell reflecting the sun like a mirror, adding further contrast to the buildings dark windows. Many of the rooms inside were lit, framing the occupant’s silhouettes against the setting sun, creating a myriad of shadows cast onto other buildings. While it was just after midday, one of the rooms remained darkened, with the curtains drawn. Inside, a lone figure slept on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow he had his arms wrapped about. The figure was obviously Turian, but his figure was impossibly short, thanks to his lack of a leg below the knees. A small computer set into the corner of the room suddenly flickered to life, a small green light blinked in it’s lower corner, causing the figure to stir.

    The Turian grunted as he opened his bright white eyes, waking up from an extremely late night, one that pushed well into the early hours of morning. He slowly pushed himself up and moved to a sitting position, rubbing his tired eyes. It felt like he had just fallen asleep.

    Maybe I’d get better sleep if I didn’t take so long to get myself away from the markets and find my room. Getting lost didn’t help either,
    the Turian tiredly mused to himself.

    He pushed himself up and yelped in surprise when there wasn’t anything to catch him. Instead of taking a step, he slipped off the bed and landed heavily on his backside. Sun’Raenar hung his head and laughed at his absent-mindedness. He turned around and hauled himself back onto the bed, pulling his heavy bionic prosthetics up and laying them out ahead of him. He positioned each leg with it’s respective surgically-implanted attachment point and waited as they slowly connected to his body. The outer edges of the legs rotated as all of the innards connected and booted up. As the last piece locked into place, and the armor pieces settled, a shock ran up his spine, lasting a mere instant. The legs were now receiving his nerve impulses and moving and feeling in response.

    Sun’Raenar chuckled, “Now I can walk.” He stood up and strode over to the blinking computer. “Alright, what do you want, you annoying little thing?” Sun made a face when the screen showed a message from the Fleet’s Admiralty Board. The message contained a set of coordinates for a rare and possibly extremely useful bit of technology from the Reapers. Sun pulled up a map for Illium and traced the coordinates, they lead right into a destroyed part of the city. The area was known for crime and lawlessness, but it was ripe with Reaper parts and their forces.

    The message was sketchy at best, but it had the correct encryption codes and it was reasonable enough to assume that a piece of tech could be hidden within that area. However, it seemed well past unlikely that the Migrant Fleet would catch wind of a report like that, especially in a seedy part of the Asari homeworld. Then it seemed even less likely considering that all of the Reaper debris had been sitting around for years, and Sun knew how much Reaper tech went for on the Black Market. Either way, it was interesting and worth checking out. Even if this message ended up a complete bust, the chance to study a Reaper, even for an hour, was invaluable.

    Or, worst case scenario, it was a trap and his curiosity would get the better of him. Sun shook his head, if it came to that, he was confident his skills as a soldier would be enough to keep him alive. Regardless of what he suspected was waiting for him, he needed to be careful. This was Illium and he was headed into the “servant” sectors.

    Sun’Raenar quickly changed into his tan and green enviro-suit and grabbed his weapons, a Phaeston assault rifle with a sight, and a Carnifex hand-cannon, both of which were a charcoal gray. He locked the door to his room and strode through the bustling streets of Nos Astra, getting more than a few confused stares from others.

    As Sun neared the coordinates, he decided to take a path across the jagged rooftops of the bombed out buildings. It was much more dangerous of a route, but it kept him well out of the way of any malcontents, and the rubble provided much better cover than the streets. Sun had to break into run to clear the holes and get up the vertical walls that often blocked his path. He wall-ran up another slab of concrete and found himself at a small park, with what Sun assumed used to be a fountain in the center. Building debris littered the cracked and pockmarked streets, punctuated by a deafening silence. The thriving city rapidly devolved into a warzone-turned-graveyard. How many died here? How many of those bodies are still buried beneath rubble?

    Sun dropped to his belly and low-crawled to the edge of the building he was on. The coordinates pointed to a warehouse-like building set into the opposite side of the park, the ideal place for an ambush. Sun drew his rifle and peered through the scope, searching for any signs of life. Nothing stirred until another Turian poked his head out of the street to Sun’s left. The newcomer was of a gray-black skin compared to Sun’s dark tan. He wore a simple white and black outfit, and carried a massive backpack. He seemed rather unremarkable until Sun noticed the gun he was carrying, a Paladin. Ok, so this guy definitely has connections to the Citadel. He may even be a C-Sec officer. The newcomer’s form flashed purple for an instant, as what Sun guessed was a biotic barrier was activated. This new Turian paused at a chunk of concrete and looked around, his glowing purple eyes completely took Sun by surprise, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He could tell the Turian was looking for snipers, and Sun sure as hell looked like one. He quickly activated his tactical cloak and waited, a thousand questions running through his head. If something was going to happen, he’d much rather watch than be stuck in the other Turian’s position.
     

    Zweihander

    Member
    The hour was early when the Calypso was cleared for planetary docking on Illium. Monty watched the planet draw nearer as the shoddy little caravel he was habituated in made preparations to descend and dock within Nos Astra's southern terminal. Even from orbit the damage from the war was visible. Large, dark swaths of destruction were spread about the gleaming lights of the planet's cities like fragmented spiderwebs; a stark reminder of the absolute devastation the Galaxy had faced. Suddenly, a wave washed over Monty. His body started to feel numb, the scent of blood crept upon him and his eyes began to roll back.

    With a gasp he seized up, leaning forward and panting hard. He gulped, feeling his chest rise and fall with each heavy breath as he glanced around to make sure nobody had seen his minor episode. Ah.. no. More bad thoughts. Good thoughts, no bad thoughts. Monty shook his head, adjusting his beanie as he continued to calm himself. Nothing like another rerun first thing in the morning. He smirked, what he referred to as "reruns" were the eidetic memories Drell experienced- where even the most subtle of sensations or sights could send one into an involuntary reliving of past events. And when it came to the Reaper Wars, well, like some other things for Monty.. leave it in the past.

    "Drell."

    Monty sighed, recognizing the deep and baritone voice immediately. He straightened up, feigned an overly-serious face, and swiveled in his seat to face the massive Krogan looming over him.

    "Drex."

    For a moment they exchanged an awkward stare, before the two of them broke the seemingly tense silence with sincere laughs.

    "Where've ya' been you little bastard? Been looking for you all morning." Monty said as the immense Krogan lurched forward to sit down, the metal groaning as Drex sat across from his friend. The two had met in Omega some years back when Drex had been brought aboard Aria T'Loak's crew as hired muscle. To make things short, Monty and Drex didn't always get along at first. Figuratively and literally they often clashed heads - to this day Monty swears he has an indention in his skull from all the headbutts he'd receive from the Krogan. Now, they had been reunited some weeks before aboard the Calypso. Drex had been providing security aboard the ship upon leaving Omega station, while Monty had joined up on the ship during its stop at the Citadel.

    "Been getting my stuff together, after Illium it's a straight shot to the Terminus System." Drex shifted back, revealing a face lined with scars from years of battle. "And then you know what's what." Monty knew, Drex planned on joining up with a small detachment of Blood Pack mercs operating out in the 'wild west' of the Galaxy. In the years following the War civilization and order had only regressed further in those dark expanses of space which made up the Terminus System. Which made the place rife for mercenary work and piracy.

    "Going searching for your lost quad? I remember, Aria made you cut it off and shoot it out an airlock before she let you join up." Monty quipped anyhow, grinning that gleaming white grin of his in a way only Monty could do in the face of a massive Krogan he had just insulted. Drex chortled, his seat further straining beneath him as he let out his laugh. "You little pl*ps, I've got half a mind to start headbutting you again." Monty's grin dropped, "Alright, alright, no. Anymore of that and I'd be seeing double." Drex grinned. "Then you'd be the one with the quad."

    The two old friends laughed as the ship broke through Illium's atmosphere, revealing a landscape of shining spires and skyscrapers standing in the glow of the planet's rising sun: Tasale. The ship bobbed and weave through the buildings which stood amidst the clouds, gradually descending and getting closer to the terminal where countless other ships and vessels were converging.

    An announcement came over the Calypso's PA: "Passengers be advised, landfall on Illium in ETA: 5 minutes."

    "pl*ps, we're just about here. You gonna come out to play before you're off to Terminus?" Monty stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder as several of the ship's other passengers prepared to disembark. Drex shook his head. "Asari don't sit well with me, you know." Monty frowned, thinking on how this could likely be their last encounter. "I'm gonna' miss your miserable ass. Try not to get fragged too soon, if I'm ever out in the Terminus System I'll stop by and say hi." Drex nodded, standing up and patting his old friend on the shoulder. "Stay safe out there, Drell."

    Suddenly, a commotion broke out towards the front of the ship where the passengers were disembarking. Monty raised an eyebrow, leaning over to get a better look of the situation. Forcing their way through the crowd of misfits and miscreants which made up the
    Calypso's passengers were Asari police officers.

    pl*ps. Monty's mind raced, was he their target? And if he was, what for?

    "Trouble?" Drex stood, looking over towards the crowd.

    "Don't know, but something's telling me I need to leave..." Suddenly one of the police officers made eye contact with Monty, and upon seeing him she immediately signaled to her squad-mates. "Drell spotted!"
    "... right now!"

    Monty immediately reeled around and took off, sprinting away in haste as Drex chuckled to himself. "Good luck!" Monty could hear him call out as he made his way through onlookers, slinking through the crowd and bounding over tables and other obstacles with an undeniable level of grace and dexterity; something he had picked up from years of navigating the streets of Omega. Behind him, the police were in hot pursuit, and they weren't far behind.

    Monty made a dip into the ship's living quarters area, bounding down the hallway as fast as his legs would carry him. While running he activated his omnitool, the orange glow lighting up the dingy and dark hall as he input his commands.
    Running diagnostics... bypassing firewall... Monty was sprinting right towards a closed blast door which served as the entrance to the ship's hold. And, boom. The light on the door's key-panel turned green, and the heavy doors opened with a metallic groan. Monty stepped inside, stopping and turning to see the Asari police round the corner and begin sprinting towards him.

    "Freeze! Hands in the air!" They raised their sidearms as they ran, sights trained on Monty who stood with a smirk on his face while he raised his arms in the air. Suddenly, the orange glow of his omnitool returned and with a simple command the doors slammed shut. Locking immediately afterwards. With the doors locked, the Drell took a breather. Resting his hands on his knees and panting softly,
    "That... that was a close--"

    Monty was interrupted as the doors behind him were blasted open with a wave of biotic energy. Monty was blown back, sent flying into an assortment of crates which came tumbling and crashing down upon him. The Asari moved in, guns all trained on the stunned Drell who lay among the debris of ruined cans of human food and goods which had begun spilling out. Monty groaned, his ears ringing and his head throbbing with pain as he strained to sit up.

    "Vserad Tavian." One of the police officers barked through her teeth, her face a scowl, "You're coming with us." Another one of the officers knelt beside Monty, grabbing hold of him and forcing him to his feet. Monty groaned, furrowing his brow in pain.
    "You can't put me in jail" he said as he faked a cough. "I have Kepral's syndrome." He continued to fake cough as his hands were restrained behind his back and the leader of the police squadron contacted her superiors. "Target incapacitated, rendezvousing at safe point and will await further debriefing."

    "So, what'd I do this time?" Monty asked as he was led outside into the customs area of the Nos Astra terminal, onlookers all standing wide-eyed at the arrest they were witnessing. The police officer who had restrained him smirked. "You made it big this time, Tavian, the Council would like a word with you." Monty's eyes widened as he was brought forth to a blue police shuttle. "Wait, what?!" He stammered as the rear doors of the shuttle were opened and he was thrown inside, before the officers slammed the doors shut without giving him his answer.

     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    The shuttle came in for docking fairly early in the day, at least by Nos Astra's time. Rosie was stood at the doorway in her casuals, alongside her mentor, James Vega, already starting to feel Illium's slightly higher gravitational pull weighing down on her. Being quite small herself, however, Rosie got off easy; she shuddered to think how Vega, with his huge musclemass, was coping.

    "Docking in 3... 2... 1..." the shuttle's computer blared out. There was a shudder, and a loud clang of metal on metal, then the computer declared, "lock established. Docking procedure complete."

    "Finally," Rosie murmured to Vega, "I was beginning to think we'd never get here."

    "There's no rush. You don't have to be there for another hour yet." Vega gave her a strong pat on the back as the doors opened. "Here, give me your bags, I'll take them up to the hotel for us. You go and find where exactly it is you have to meet this operative."

    "You sure? The hotel's not that far, I could help you take them."

    "Yeah, you go on ahead," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. She grinned back at him.

    "Thanks, mate. See you in a bit." She clapped him on the shoulder and dropped off the shuttle, landing a little harder than she'd expected to, thanks to Illium's gravity.

    "Hey, don't forget this. Never be too careful." Rosie glanced back to see Vega throwing her Carnifex pistol to her; she caught it and holstered it in one swift movement. She was about to express her thanks when a commotion stirred up. Turning to look, she was nearly knocked to the ground by a drell careening past her, followed closely by a small contingent of asari police officers. Vega caught her by the shoulders and pushed her back upright, laughing.

    "Glad the asari have to go chasing after crooks too. Thought they would have just laid him out with a biotic clothesline or something." Rosie rolled her eyes and smirked - he loved to tease her about biotics.

    "Very funny. See you later," she replied, waving before heading off toward a tourist information booth.


    The asari manning the booth was possibly the most boring individual Rosie had ever met. In answer to Rosie's question, she proceeded to give a long list of 'interesting' attractions around the city, the majority of which were museums or culturally significant monuments, none of which Rosie was interested in. Finally, what seemed like an age later, the asari finally gave Rosie the directions she'd asked for.


    It took around 30 minutes to arrive at the building that her message had led her to. She checked the message on her omni-tool to confirm she was in the right place, and indeed she was.

    The silence of the place unnerved her. There was no sound at all, not even the distant noises of vehicles. And on top of that, the hairs on the back of her neck were starting to stand up, as though she were being watched.

    She drew her pistol, slowed her breathing, and pushed through the door quickly, holding up the pistol and checking her corners just as she'd been taught to.

    Nothing? she thought, confused. She'd been expecting to see an agent waiting for her already, but apparently not. The only thing for it would be to wait and see if an agent turned up soon; she was 30 minutes early, after all.

    Taking a place in a corner, with a good view of all doorways, she leaned against a wall with her pistol held in one hand, and waited.
     

    Andre Marek

    You can run, but you'll only die tired...
    It was early in the morning on Illium, only just approaching 0630 when the sound of an electric guitar softly intruded on the silence that filled the apartment, encroaching on the dreams of the sole occupant.

    "...Whats the matter with the clothes I'm wearing, can't ya tell that your ties too wide..." Billy Joels voice echoed around the empty room with the beginning of 'It's still rock and roll to me' finally stirring Kristina MacDonald awake. The song continued as the woman lay in bed, half covered by the sheets, listening drearily to the rise and fall of the lyrics as she mentally prepared herself for the day.

    With a groan she rolled over and tried to focus on the ceiling, which was spinning violently. Having only gone to sleep three and a half hours ago, she was probably still half drunk but she forced herself to sit up and throw the warmth of the sheets off. With a prodigious yawn she stood and stretched as she made her way across the small room to the adjacent bathroom. All she wore was a pair of briefs.

    After she'd splashed her face a few times with the tap water, Kristina set about her morning routine. First she did a quick stretch followed by a light workout to get her muscles moving. Then she took a shower and cleaned herself up, throwing on her usual green cargo pants and black tank top. Looking at her watch, a relic from the 21st century, she saw it was only 0715 so she decided to go out for breakfast. Grabbing her M77 in it's shoulder holster and her leather jacket she left the apartment.

    It was only a short walk from her place in the market district to a little 24/7 joint that served a delightfully greasy 'earth style' breakfast. Just what she needed after last night. She wasn't sure exactly what creature the eggs, or the 'bacon' for that matter, came from but she didn't care. The taste of salty fat and egg yolk was heaven as far as she was concerned. Washed down with two large cups of coffee, Kristina felt ready for the day ahead.

    She was just finishing the last of her bacon, while staring absentmindedly at one of the television screens behind the bar, when her omni-tool chirped, indicating a new message for her. Kristina didn't pay any attention to the device though because she was now too focused on the television. A story had come on detailing the disappearances of several Biotics on Ilium of the course of the last few weeks. Of course this was the first she'd heard of it due to her extended deployment in the Terminus System.

    Tearing her eyes from the screen she opened up the new message on her omni-tool and was surprised to see a message from Alliance command. So soon? What the hell happened to my leave? She though with a frown. But as she read the message she discovered that it was from the intelligence division and was a request, rather than an order, to investigate some suspicious transmissions right here in Nos Astra. Apparently somebody was sending and receiving encoded messages through Alliance channels. One of the relays happened to be relatively nearby. Ahh what the hell... She thought, I've got nothing on the go anyway.

    Kristina payed for her meal and left the diner, checking her omni-tool to make sure she was headed in the right direction, and made her way to the building the relay was located at. It only took a brief flash of her N7 badge for the supervisor to let her in to check it out. A few minutes later she was sifting through the list of messages that passed through the relay in the past few days. She picked out the ones with Alliance encryption with ease and took note of the recipients omni-tool codes so she could track them.

    After entering the codes, four so far, her omni-tool highlighted the positions of four omni-tools on the map. Three of them were grouped around a building in the ruined part of the city, surrounded by destroyed reapers and skyscrapers. One was actually near the city center in what appeared to be a police station. Kristina thought that was odd but decided to focus on the three converging on the warehouse. The solo one didn't seem to be leaving the police station anytime soon.

    She thought about going back to her apartment to retrieve her armor and weapons but decided against it. The hardsuit would only make her more conspicuous and her targets could very well have scattered by the time she was ready, making her job that much harder. Instead she simply made her way towards the ruins left over from the war.

    The ruins were a dangerous place to wander for most of Iliums populace due to the amount of crime that had sprung up around the area as black marketeers scrambled to snatch up any Reaper tech they could. Civilians regularly went missing in the rubble, no doubt caught in the crossfire as they too tried to cash in on the scraps the governments had left behind. Luckily for Kristina, she wasn't an easy target; the few low lifes that approached her scampered off when she flashed her Paladin.

    As she closed in on the area around the dots on her map Kristina slowed down, taking her time to check each new roofline that came into view. One of the dots looked like it was perched on top of a building overlooking a warehouse in the center of a small square. Another was actually inside the warehouse itself. The third was slowly moving across the square and after a careful scan Kristina was able to spot a lone Turian wearing a white shirt and black pants picking his way across the rubble strewn square. He was being careful but he was still fairly exposed. He was too far away for Kristina to see much more detail. The dot on the roof worried her though. Where there should have been a person perched atop the roof, was instead, nothing.

    Kristina gazed at the roof for a moment longer before slipping her hand into her jacket and drew her sidearm before climbing a pile of rubble nearby and taking a position from which she could see the whole square. She knelt down behind a chunk of concrete and waited to see what happened next.
     

    Orien Terrik

    "Arik tree'ac te kek."
    David leaned against the counter, peering around the club. Illium was an... odd world, to say the least, and this club was no exception. Some of the oddest sights were a Geth dancing with a Krogan female, and a Krogan Male dancing with a Human Female. The bartender returned with oil for a Geth that was a few paces away from him, and as the Geth "Drank" it, his systems began flashing, and he appear to stumble a bit. Odd, but not unheard of. David had heard of spiked oil, something from the underworld, that allows Geth to "get drunk". Suddenly, his Omni-tool beeped. Looking down, he noticed it was a mission update. "Ah, there you are." He mumbled out as he stared at the image of a human male. Rumors and whispers placed him at this club, and David's mission was to track the man down, extract information, and eliminate him. Dirty work, to be sure, but when dealing with the Cerberus Remnants, one can never be to careful. A commotion to his right caught his attention, and he noticed his target, walking from his private room towards the exit. David shoved off the counter, falling in behind the last guard. Making sure no one was looking, David slid a knife in between the man's ribs, holding his other hand over his mouth so no noise could be heard, and he "Helped" the man to the Bathroom. Setting the body on the toilet, he scanned up and down over the man, getting a photo of every detail of the armor. Lastly he scanned the vocal cords, and added it to his Database. Activating his Prototype disguise system, David took on the appearance of the Cerberus soldier, and exited the Bathroom, leaving the body slumped on the toilet. As he exited the Bathroom, one of the other guards waved at him, signaling him to hurry it up. Falling into line once again, the Geth Spectre exited the club, ready to do his job.

    Thirty minutes later, David, and his target, entered an abandoned warehouse. It was a safe house, that much was obvious, with supplies stacked all around. If his information was correct, he had only an hour to eliminate the guards, and extract the information from his target... no problem. As the door shut behind them, and locked, David whipped out a concealed Pistol, and shot at the Guard at the door, eliminating him with a clean round through the head. Pulling out his knife with his other hand, he flung it, almost at the same time as he shot the first guard. Even though he currently wasn't looking, the blade found it's mark, buried in the heart of another guard who was pulling his armor off. Twisting around, he brought the pistol up, and fired four more shots as quickly as possible, eliminating the last two Guards with two clean shots to the head as well. The last two rounds slammed into his target's Kneecaps, blowing them apart. The man collapsed, looking up at David with... fear or surprise, maybe a mix of both. "Bruce, the hell man?" The Cerberus man cried out. David rotated his shoulder joints, a human gesture he had observed many times before, and then deactivated his cloak, revealing himself to be a Geth. "Where have you taken the Biotics? Who is your boss?" David said calmly, walking over and yanking the knife out of the man's chest. He wiped the blood off on his vest, and then turned, looking back at his Target. "I'm not telling you nothin'!" He yelled out, spitting, or trying to, at David. "Let's make this simple, then. What is your name. My information says Bob, but I highly doubt that is what you are really known by." David said, tilting his head slightly at the man. "Its Duck Quackers, Flashlight head." He spat out. David let out an audible sigh, or, as much fo a sigh as a Geth could create. "I calculate a Nintey-nine point nine nine precent chance that you will tell me everything I want to know, Duck Quackers." He said after staring silently at the man for a few seconds. "And why is that?" The man asked, looking skeptical. David showed the man his knife, and began twirling it in his hand. "Geth do not have Testicles. They are... structural weaknesses." David said, slowly walking forward.

    A scream sounded from the Warehouse, then silence. That silence was followed by a Gunshot a few seconds later. The door to the Warehouse opened, but it seemed like nothing exited. Inside where the bodies of the Cerberus unit.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    David shook his head. Dirty, but it had revealed some information, though not as much as he would've hoped. It seemed that even the Cerberus Agents are kept int the dark, only being told to kidnap a target, and bring them to a certain place. However, this only left him with more questions, truth be told. Cerberus may have been responsible for a few abductions, but they couldn't be responsible for all of them, could they? Either the Cerberus Remnant was a bigger threat than they realized, or they were working for someone else, and anyone who has the power to make Cerberus fall in line was a serious threat. A beep was heard, and David looked down to his Omni-tool. "New coordinates?" He mumbled out to himself. Trying his best to imitate a sigh once again, he made his way towards the location, though cautiously. Upon approach, the Geth was able to pick up four Life Forms, all around what appeared to be another Warehouse. Quickly, he activated his cloaking system, and stealthfully entered the building. His attention was immediately drawn to a woman in the corner. Tilting his head slightly, he deactivated his cloaking device, seemingly appearing out of thin air. "Hello, I am David. Are you the one I am supposed to meet with?" He asked, in an innocent, but curious, manner.
     
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    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Rosie had been waiting for a little under 10 minutes when she heard a faint noise. She glanced around, eyes narrowed, looking for the source, still unsure what the noise had been. Keeping one hand on her pistol, she leaned forward a bit, ready for a fight.

    What she wasn't expecting was for an enormous geth unit to appear out of thin air, right in front of her, seemingly unarmed. She spouted curse words in surprise, while drawing her pistol and aiming it straight at the head of the geth, more than a foot above her. The geth didn't react, but simply tilted its head and began to speak in a robotic, yet strangely curious voice.

    "Hello, I am David. Are you the one I am supposed to meet with?"

    Now that piqued Rosie's interest. She lowered her pistol slightly, but kept it to hand. She had been supposed to meet a member of the Alliance, and she somewhat doubted that a geth was part of the Alliance.

    "I don't know, but I doubt you're the one I'm supposed to meet with." She narrowed her eyes and took a closer look at the geth's form. She'd never seen a geth up close, and now that one was stood in front of her, she couldn't help but feel a little intimidated; despite the geth's apparent lack of a weapon. It was well over 6 feet tall, towering over Rosie's short 5'2". It looked like it could lay Vega flat on his ass in a heartbeat, by the sheer bulk of it.

    "Who exactly are you supposed to be meeting with? My name is Rosie Fox. N6, Alliance Navy. I somehow doubt I'm the one you're looking for."

     

    Zweihander

    Member
    Monty slouched back along the metal benches lining the walls of the police shuttle's holding cell. He was covered in soot and grime from the blast, and a thin line of red blood seeped from a gash alongside his temple. He grimaced as he wiped it away, "biotics are cheating" he muttered as he folded his arms across his chest.

    The shuttle bucked briefly as its thrusters were ignited and the shuttle prepped for take off. To where and for what exact reason were unknown to Monty, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the shuttle began its ascent among Nos Astra's skyline. The Drell sighed, palming his forehead with his hand as he pondered the reason for his confinement, and more importantly, how the Council was involved.
    Didn't even make it through the station this time... heh, that's a record. He smirked, it was a first for him being arrested before even setting foot on a planet. It was also a first for him catching the attention of the mighty intergalactic Citadel Council. He frowned, what could they want with him? Was it a bluff?

    Monty was wanted in Citadel Space for a few, relatively minor crimes which pale in comparison to the antics he'd find himself in Terminus Space. A few slip-ups here and there during his work for Aria on the Citadel or on frontier stations bordering the Terminus. However, there was the one incident in the Attican Traverse..
    Could they know about that? No... No way. Monty swallowed, his hands clenching into fists. He could feel his heart rate begin to pick up, thudding against the inside of his chest like a battering ram. "Ah, no bad thoughts... good thoughts." He shakily mumbled to himself as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying his hardest to force away the images flashing through his mind. Scenes of fire and destruction burning in the skies above a human settlement, of flaming debris and rubble raining down like asteroids bringing forth the onset of a world-ending cataclysm, of people screaming and watching in horror at the seared skies above them, of the scorched stuffed animal which made landfall in a patch of grass beside Monty.

    "No."

    Monty spoke in between heavy breaths.

    "No."

    He sighed, lowering his head and running his hands alongside his temples and underneath his beanie. It had been a few years since that last job, and still the memories followed him with the perfect clarity and realism that only a Drell's memory could elicit. It was moments like this that made him curse being a member of his species. For Drell, time healed nothing, there was no such thing as leaving it in the past or casting it away to time. For Monty, that day might has well as happened yesterday.

    The shuttle came to a sudden stop, awakening Monty from his stupor with a jolt. He stood up at once. Showtime. The metal doors swung open, letting in a flood of blinding light which momentarily stunned Monty who raised an arm to shield his eyes. "Out! Now!" An Asari voice barked, and Monty was quick to follow the order as he shuffled out of the cell. His eyes now adjusted to the light, he glanced around to find himself flanked on both sides by armed guards totting assault rifles. They were nearby some sort of abandoned warehouse, in a region of the city left desolate following the Reaper War. "What the hell is this?" He asked, thoroughly confused. That's when he saw the two figures standing at the other end of the square where they had landed. One of them appeared to be a human, a female by the looks of it. The other, much to Monty's surprise and bewilderment, was a Geth. "And who the hell are they?"
     

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    All’s I want is a name sweetie, give me that and this will all be over.” The voice was gentle, sweet even. Coming from the petite and lithe gentle blue Asari with beautiful purple stripes dancing across her face, dressed in a white body suit and black vest. She looked so innocent.

    AGH! It hurts! Everything hurts! Please, just stop. PLEASE!

    Looks could be quite deceiving.

    Saetha gave a sad sigh as Turian continued to resist. It was the third suspect she had captured, and it was going about as well as the first two. No new information, no new names. No new leads. This one seemed to be the same. It was unnatural to resist this kind of interrogation. Perhaps they were kept clueless? Maybe conditioned to resist all kinds of torture? Chances were she’d never figure this out, and it didn’t matter right now. She had a job to do, and Liara would want it done. Her hand began to glow a bright blue, and was pressed against the Turians chest. A blood curdling scream could rang out in apartment’s bedroom. Law enforcement would likely be here soon, which meant she needed to wrap up.

    She continued to let her Biotic power wrack the poor things nervous system, watching him convulse and foam at the mouth. The entire time Saetha’s own expression was wracked with guilt and sorrow. This isn’t you. This isn’t what you are. You’re helping your sister. Anything for family. Anything. Finally she let go and he fell limp, his entire body still visibly shaking. She knelt down in front of him, gently raising up his cheek, feeling his coarse skin against her soft fingers. He’s a monster. A murderer. You don’t feel bad for monsters.

    I’m sorry, I don’t want to keep doing this. Just tell me something so it can be over. Please.” Her voice wavered slightly as she stared into his now dull and hollow eyes. They were so clear before, shining emerald. She’d taken that away. With whatever strength he had left the Enrik slowly lifted his head, staring into her eyes and holding her gaze. He shook his head, and dropped. He was gone, and outside she could hear someone barking orders, feet stomping towards her. It was time to leave. She stood up and walked towards one of the large windows looking over beautiful Nos Astra. It was a serene sight, it helped to take her mind off the atrocities she had just committed. But that was the price of justice…

    Whipping out her Locust she shot out the window, right as the door blasted open and Asari officers began filing in.

    Another dead lead ladies, sorry.” Her voice was casual as she casually walked towards the blasted window. She thought she heard shouting as she fell out of the window, and even a few shots. That was a first. Her brief fall was interrupted by a cushioned seat of an open hover car, which quickly closed and darted away from the apartment complex, working its way into the twisting heart of Illium. Saetha didn’t bother getting up, letting the auto system take her home. Instead she just curled up into a little ball of blue before tears began welling at her eyes, before turning into a steady stream. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can do sis.” Her voice cracked as she talked to herself, wracked with grief. She was a soldier, killing was nothing new. But to torture someone, make every moment a living hell until the light faded from their eyes… She clutched the faintly glowing sapphire hanging around her neck and squeezed it tightly. I am not a monster. I am not a monster.


    As she continued this little mantra a holo-message popped up from the projector in her car, and Glyph popped into existence. “Greeting Operative 716, what were the results of Mr. Enriks ‘interview’?

    Saetha shot up from her seat when she heard Glyph’s voice, quickly wiping away the tears from her eyes and regain her composure. By the time she was looking at Glyph a goofy smile was on her face.

    Eh, you know. Same as the last two dates. He wasn’t much of a talker, despite how charming and cute I am! Will I ever find love Glyph?” She threw her head back dramatically and raised a hand to it to show her playful sorrow.

    Another unsatisfactory performance Operative 716. Very disappointing.” Saetha pouted at this, Glyph was always quick with berating her.

    Well when your sent to one of the most heavily populated planets in the world with no leads, nor resources, and no assistance, the chances of you finding useful information is a bit tough!

    There is no need for your excuses 716. After getting information from a productive Operative, she has decided it was necessary to escalate the threat level. A full team is being formed to counteract the Biotic kidnappings, and are assembling tomorrow. You are to meet the group at a safe house, coordinates have already been sent to your terminal. Do not disappoint 716.

    There wasn’t any time to ask questions. Not even a chance to ask how her sister was doing. Just orders. That’s all she seemed to get from the Broker these days. At least I can finally be with a group again! That thought excited her. It had been some time since she worked with others. Some social interaction would hopefully keep her from completely losing it.

    Servant Slums

    The next day Saetha headed off to the ‘Servants Slums’, a nasty area that was hit hard by the Reaper War. The scars of the many battles were still evident, and the danger seemed to linger as well. Amidst the crumbling ruins and deserted streets all manner of low life gangers shadow organizations hid, warring over whatever tech was left from the war. Plenty had gone missing here. But those people weren’t her. Still donned in her white body suit and black vest, armed with nothing but a pistol, Saetha made her way towards the safe house. Surprisingly the journey was quite smooth, although she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were eyes watching her. Not that it mattered. To most she’d look like another wanderer, unassuming. They’d pay her no mind.

    Finally she got to the safe house, she was pleasantly surprised by what she found. A pretty human, a fancy Geth, a dashing Turian, and a very confused Drell. Excitedly she rushed towards them, not seeming to realize they’d take that as a threat. “Hi everyone! What a fun group this looks like! What’re we talking about? Can I join? I like talking with others. I’ll start! I’m Saetha T’soni, ex-Huntress extraordinaire.
     

    Archer Drake

    Parkour Enthusiast
    John had almost reached the warehouse when a flurry of events happened that more than threw him off kilter. To start, there was already a human female waiting inside the warehouse, and a very large Geth unit. John was close enough to make out bits of their conversation after the initial chain of swearing. It seemed like neither of the two knew exactly what was going on, but he was able to catch names. The Human introduced herself as Rosie, an N6 unit, and the Geth called himself David.

    John made a face, I’ve never heard of the Human, but I have heard of a Geth named David. John’s mandibles clicked in surprise, the Geth, David, was a Spectre! If the situation made any sense before, it surely didn’t now. Why a Spectre? Why would the council send him to Nos Astra of all places?

    The high-pitched whine of a shuttle jerked the young Turian from his thoughts, sending him scrambling for cover. What looked like a Police shuttle roughly landed on the rugged pavement, and moments later Asari officers were pulling a young - well, it looked young – drell from the shuttle. There wasn’t anything particularly unique about the amber-colored Drell until John’s eyes reached the seemingly out-of-place beanie perched atop his bleeding head. I swear I’ve seen him before, but where do I know him from?

    “What the hell is this?” The Drell said in a confused tone. Tavian! Vserad Tavian! Aria’s top engineer! John hadn’t realized he’d yelled out his thoughts and stood up. He found himself completely out of cover, pointing at the Vserad, his Paladin hanging uselessly from his lowered right hand.

    “Uh, I…” John’s voice trailed off as he finally took notice of the guards’ assault rifles. He slowly raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, chuckling nervously. “I, uh…fancy meeting you here, Tavian. I thought I made it quite clear I was done working with you." John cursed at himself for leaving his armor in his backpack. It did nothing for him now except slow him down.

    “Hi everyone! What a fun group this looks like! What’re we talking about? Can I join? I like talking with others. I’ll start! I’m Saetha T’soni, ex-Huntress extraordinaire.” John turned his head to see a small Asari rushing towards them.

    “I can’t answer any of your questions, but…wait, did you say T’soni? As in Liara T’soni?” If what Garrus had said about Liara was true…well, it shed a new light on the situation that started to make sense. If John thought about it, all of this started to make more and more sense. Liara needed help with something, most likely the disappearances of biotics across the galaxy, and she was gathering her operatives. Huh, sounds a lot like what Shepard did.

    John dropped his arms and relaxed his stance, turning to the Asari officers. “None of you are with Nos Astra’s Police Force, are you? In fact, I’d wager you’re Shadow Broker forces. Actually, I take that back, all of this was set up by the Broker, wasn’t it, Saetha? And why the hell are you here, Tavian? Couldn't cause enough trouble for me and the rest of C-Sec?” John glared at the light-skinned Asari and the amber-colored Drell in turn, daring either of them to make a move. He needed confirmation of his suspicions, and he really wanted to nab the Drell and bring him in for his crimes. He'd given John the slip more than a few times, marring his service record. To add insult to injury, he'd been forced to work with the criminal on mulitple occassions, only giving the Drell greater access and knowledge so he could turn around and make John look like a fool. John let his confusion turn to frustration and his frustration to anger, allowing rage to fuel his biotics. His eyes were soon gleaming brightly, and his veins pulsed the dark purple of element zero as his body became enveloped in biotic power.

    The display was mostly for intimidation, but he used the extra power to boost his barrier and the power of his muscles, trying to make up for his lack of armor. This is illegal! Forging the Council’s codes is a crime, and I will not be a criminal! I'm done working with them! John’s grip tightened on his Paladin and he steadied it in his hands, aiming at the small Asari’s heart. “Answer me, or I swear I’ll drop you where you stand, T’soni!” A thought flickered in the back of John’s mind, this isn’t you. You don’t kill people mercilessly for their crimes. John shook his head and clenched his jaw, No! Shepard and Dad have killed for the same reasons. Follow their example for once in your life!
     
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    Zweihander

    Member
    Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from the direction of the warehouse and Monty turned to find himself staring down John Vakarian. Normally he'd have some wisecrack prepared and ready, but running into one of C-Sec's poster boys here of all places left the confused Drell even more perplexed. For a moment, Monty just stood bewildered as the police officers on either side of him immediately trained their rifles on John. Okay... this is getting weird.

    “Uh, I…” Monty snickered as John sheepishly laughed while raising his hands to yield. John was young, what is he now? 20 years old or so? I forgot to send him a birthday card. Still, growing up the only son of someone like Garrus Vakarian probably didn't leave John much time for a carefree childhood. Monty's always known John to be a real no-nonsense hard ass with an attitude more befitting of someone much older. So it was refreshing to see that facade crumble a little every so often, revealing that John is still young and somewhat green. “I, uh…fancy meeting you here, Tavian. I thought I made it quite clear I was done working with you." Monty spat. "Nice to see you too Blue, I didn't realize there was a calibrations convention in town." He grinned wickedly. "How's the old man by the way?" "Blue" was Monty's nickname he had christened John with, much to the latter's displeasure.

    Another newcomer approached, this time a pale Asari with an icy blue complexion. She looked young, but knowing the rate at which Asari age Monty realized she was probably as old as the Drell's late grandmother. “Hi everyone! What a fun group this looks like! What’re we talking about? Can I join? I like talking with others. I’ll start! I’m Saetha T’soni, ex-Huntress extraordinaire.” Monty blinked, raising an eyebrow. This ex-Huntress extraordinaire's bubbly introduction was a welcome change of pace from everyone pointing guns at each other and being generally abrasive. Monty gave a nod to the Asari. "Name's Monty, charmed." He said slyly.

    “None of you are with Nos Astra’s Police Force, are you? In fact, I’d wager you’re Shadow Broker forces. Actually, I take that back, all of this was set up by the Broker, wasn’t it, Saetha? And why the hell are you here, Tavian? Couldn't cause enough trouble for me and the rest of C-Sec?” Monty narrowed his eyes, but before he could quip with something to further irritate John he noticed that the Turian's biotics were beginning to take effect. He's getting pissed-not good. John's eyes began to gleam blue with biotic energy and his body became enshrouded with element zero. Monty glanced to his left and right at the supposed police officers, who, despite having their guns trained on John, were beginning to shift about nervously. Monty scoffed. "Alright, everyone, just cool your jets. Please." He turned towards John. "That means you too, hotshot. You want to know why I'm here?" He gestured towards the officers. "These jerk-off cops-- shadow broker agents, I don't know, whoever the hell you guys are. They nabbed me the second the ship I was on docked on the planet. I didn't really have much of a say in the matter." Monty grinned. "But if I had known you were gonna be here Blue, I would've showed up without so much of a fight."

    Suddenly, one of the officers spoke up; interrupting Monty. "Who we are doesn't matter, we're agents acting with the authority and permission of the Council. You've all been brought here for a reason, and we're to await here until further briefing." The Asari officer glared at Monty. "Got it?!" The Drell scoffed, shaking his head. "Yes sir." The Asari furrowed her brow. "I mean uh, ma'am."
     

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    “I can’t answer any of your questions, but…wait, did you say T’soni? As in Liara T’soni?” Saetha rolled her eyes as the Turian stumbled onto the conclusion of who she was, what a sleuth he was. "Very good sweetie, you can understand names! You could be of use to us after all." However John's confusion quickly turned to anger as he tried to understand what was going on, and surprisingly got somewhat close to the truth, which actually did impress her. Slightly.

    The Drell's introduction was much more smooth as he flashed a shining grin at her, "Name's Monty, charmed." Saetha returned the gesture with an alluring smile of her own, "I'm sure you are dear, I think we might get along well." She gave a subtle wink towards the amber colored Drell. It had been far to long since she got to talk, play, even flirt a bit. But that ended quickly as John became more agitated.

    “None of you are with Nos Astra’s Police Force, are you? In fact, I’d wager you’re Shadow Broker forces. Actually, I take that back, all of this was set up by the Broker, wasn’t it, Saetha? And why the hell are you here, Tavian? Couldn't cause enough trouble for me and the rest of C-Sec? Answer me, or I swear I’ll drop you where you stand, T’soni!”

    It seemed Saetha's arrival was the spark that blew the powder keg of a situation. I seem to always have that effect on groups. She thought somewhat amusedly as she stared down the barrel of the Turian's Paladin, giggling as she did so. It more than likely would only antagonize him further, but there was a part of her that just loved doing that. "Oh my, aren't you dangerous Mr. Blue, Angry and Handsome." She purred as she walked closer, not at all concerned it seemed by the Paladin that was now nearly pressing against her skin. "I like you kid, you got fire in you. I can see why my sister wanted you. But you spoiled the surprise." Her voice changed from a playful purr to a somewhat venomous tone before her barrier erupted in a flash to match John's own intimidation, showing she was not be be cowed by his show of force.. "Don't do that again please, I hate when people ruin my surprises." Biotic energy raged around her a few more moments before she heard the Drell speak up again trying to calm the enraged C-sec officer.

    "Alright, everyone, just cool your jets. Please. That means you too, hotshot. You want to know why I'm here? These jerk-off cops-- shadow broker agents, I don't know, whoever the hell you guys are. They nabbed me the second the ship I was on docked on the planet. I didn't really have much of a say in the matter. But if I had known you were gonna be here Blue, I would've showed up without so much of a fight." So they actually knew each other then? That would make things simpler! Or more difficult, as the Turian didn't seem to happy to see the Drell. Did all of their kind have a stick shoved so far up their ass?

    "As amusing as this all is, my sister is not one to waste time. John here isn't wrong. The Shadow Broker has called upon you. For whatever reason she see's value in each one of you, so much so that she has entrusted us with a very important job. To hunt down whoever is behind the Biotic kidnappings that our dear Citadel enjoys ignoring, quite content to sit with their thumb up their ass." She let that information sink in for a few moments. Not everyone took to being recruited by the Shadow Broker as enthusiastically as she. She just hoped they didn't all turn her down.

    "This has become a desperate situation. Biotics are dissappearing in droves across the galaxy, but kept just under the radar of all Council nations. Will you ignore it too?" She glared at each of them, Biotic power still surging around her body as to show her own authority in this situation
     

    Andre Marek

    You can run, but you'll only die tired...
    Kristina dashed from cover to cover, using the rubble strewn around the courtyard to mask her movements as she closed the distance to her targets. She stayed crouched the whole time, with her pistol held in the ready-low position and her omnitool at the ready. This many people, all apparently with access to Alliance codes, shouldn't be meeting in the middle of a destroyed city district. Whatever was going on here obviously warranted a closer look.

    From her last position she'd witnessed an aircar arrive at the front of the warehouse and deposit what looked like a Drell as well as two Asari wearing police uniforms. Both officers were carrying assault rifles; not standard issue. Besides the fake police officers and the Drell, there were two Turian males, an Asari, a Human female and most surprisingly, a Geth.

    As she closed in on the group she was able to catch a few snippets of the conversation. It was the Asari speaking at the moment, "This has become a desperate situation. Biotics are dissappearing in droves across the galaxy, but kept just under the radar of all Council nations. Will you ignore it too?" The womans voice echoed clearly. Kristina stopped and cocked her head.

    Did I just hear that right? Is this some kind of recruitment? Kristina poked her head over the piece of concrete she was currently behind to get a better look. The Asari was looking around at the group expectantly while the rest glanced at one another apprehensively. Now that she was close enough to see in detail, Kristina realized that she actually recognized two of the people from the group. The Human woman was in fact in the N6 program and was due to be tapped for N7 promotion in the near future. As an N7 Captain, it was one of Kristinas responsibilities to monitor up and coming candidates. What the hell is she doing here?

    Then she gave the Geth a closer look; although it was hard to differentiate between individual platforms of the synthetic race, Kristina was sure that this particular one was none other than the Specter known as Unit 5555-55. Again thanks to her N7 clearance she was required to be aware of current Specters in case she ever crossed paths with one.
    Huh... one of those times where training actually comes in handy. I can't imagine he would let them live if he thought they were up to no good. It's time to get some answers.

    Kristina stood up and walked up behind the group, her pistol pointed skyward with in one hand and the other hand dug into her jacket to reveal her N7 Badge. When she was a few meters behind the group, Kristina stopped, and keeping everyone in her vision said, "Alright, Alliance N7, someone want to fill me in here?" While she spoke, she cocked her pistol and allowed a slight boitic glow to envelope her other hand to indicate that she wasn't to be taken lightly.
     

    Archer Drake

    Parkour Enthusiast
    Sun’Raenar had become hopelessly lost. He was too far away to catch anything above a yell, and now that the group had settled down – sort of – he couldn’t gather any further information. He’d caught something about a Tavian, most likely referring to the amber-colored Drell, and something about a T’soni, which caught his attention. He could have sworn Tali’Zorah used that name once…he should have paid more attention when he was younger.

    Regardless of what he could and couldn’t hear, something was very wrong here. He couldn’t see a single trace of salvageable equipment, and to make things worse, the coordinates lead to a dilapidated warehouse. Are members of the Fleet trying to kill me now? Oh Keelah, I hope not. Sun shook his head watching as a human walked up and asked something of the group. What she was asking was a mystery, but everyone turned to look at her. She seemed awfully calm for an unarmored human in the face of a sizeable group of people, even more so considering a Turian and an Asari were squaring off in the center of the plaza.

    A soft glow ripped Sun’Raenar from his thoughts, his cloak was wearing off. He cursed himself for not getting to a better position, and for allowing his cloak to run out. Foolish. Sun slowly put away his rifle and got to his feet, only daring to stand halfway up. The group hadn’t seemed to notice him, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He moved behind a chunk of concrete and paused. Nobody had yelled, and he didn’t hear any clips being thrown into weapons. Sun shrugged and slipped over to a taller piece of debris, keeping his head low and keeping to the shadows.

    Sun peeked around the corner and scanned the area, looking for a better vantage point. There was a beaten billboard-style sign on the warehouse. It wouldn’t stop a bullet, but it was close enough to hear the others’ conversation and keep him out of sight. Sun shrugged and began creeping along the debris, keeping an eye on the group as he moved.

    Suddenly a large piece of debris shifted and sent Sun reeling. He tripped and fell onto a loose patch of rubble, sliding to the edge of a ragged two-story building. Sun flailed, arms and legs searching for any purchase as he slid down. He yelped in fear as he was carried right off the edge of the building, but managed to spin partially around and catch the ledge with one hand. He awkwardly flailed his arms in the air for a moment before he grabbed the ledge with his other hand.

    Sun blew out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and began to pull himself up. Just as his face cleared the ledge, a rock roughly the size of a dinner plate struck Sun square in the face, cracking his visor and throwing him off the ledge.

    “Keelaaaaaahh!” Sun yelled as he fell, hopelessly flailing his arms about. A slanted slab of concrete struck his back, knocking the hopeless Turian out, as he tumbled backwards, head over heels to the ground.
    Sun awoke moments later, lying flat on his stomach. His helmet had been ripped off his head during his tumble, and now sat at the Asari’s feet, it’s visor now shattered.

    Sun lay motionless for a few moments, allowing his swimming vision to calm and his head to make sense of the pain enveloping his body. He slowly picked himself off the ground, groaning softly as he did so. He slowly got to his knees and rocked back to a sitting position, “K-Keelah, that hurt.”

    Besides a few minor scratches, Sun found himself to be fine, save for a massive headache and a fiery pain in his back. He slowly turned himself around to face the group and leaned back on his arms, “Th…that didn’t work.”
     

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    @Andre Marek @Archer Drake


    The standoff between John and Saetha didn't last long, as a new voice pierced into the situation. "Alright, Alliance N7, someone want to fill me in here?" Saetha was somewhat surprised to see another human join the group. According to her count, they had all the ones here Liara sought. Of course she enjoyed making last minute changes, keeping everyone on their toes. Sneaky minx.

    She turned to address the apparent N7 officer, offering her a glowing smile. Or was that glow just from her deadly biotic powers? She liked to think it was the smile.

    "Ah, why hello there dear! We're not doing much, just planning on stopping the mass abductions of biotics occurring around the galaxy that all of our governments are content to ignore. And a lot of us seem to be glowing for some reason." She shrugged chuckling slightly at the fact that half the group was involved in a... Goddess, what did the humans say? A dick measuring contest. Yup, that was it. Humans are so delightfully crass.

    She was prepared to offer a more concrete explanation, when somebody else made an incredibly dramatic entrance.

    At first it started off with her hearing some crumbling ruins. She looked up, and next thing she knew she was watching an oddly shaped Quarian take a surprisingly long tumble. Like really long. Everything was silent as she watched the person tumble, the silence only broken by painful impacts and the poor dear shouting "KEELAH!" every now and then.

    Finally he hit the dirt, his helmet tumbling over to her feet, and simply lay there for a few moments and muttering to himself in as he tried to regain full consciousness. Finally he managed to push himself up from the ground. “Th…that didn’t work."

    Saetha stared at the for a few seconds before she started giggling. Then that giggling turned to laughing. And that turned into her nearly falling onto the ground herself in a fit of laughter. He did that entire fall, such a dramatic entrance, and that was all he said? For some reason it was just to funny, and it took a minute before she regained her composure, her biotic energy fading away as she wiped away a few tears.

    Picking up the helmet she walked over to the... Turian? She knelt down and offered a hand to the likely in pain hybrid. "My dear, aren't you just a bundle of surprises. First you fall from the sky, with no explanation, and then your a Turian." She cocked an eyebrow at him, looking him over before offering a smile. "I like you kid."
     

    Archer Drake

    Parkour Enthusiast
    “Oh my, aren’t you dangerous Mr. Blue, Angry and Handsome.” Saetha said seductively as she strode closer to John, nearly touching the end of his Paladin with her chest; less than an arm’s reach from where he stood. Reflexively, John took a step back, his mandibles clicking in embarrassment.

    To make the situation more awkward, the Asari complimented John…again. Out of everything I’d expect her to do, she…did that? The embarrassed Turian cleared his throat awkwardly, taking another step back as Saetha continued to move forwards, mere inches from John.

    The Asari’s demeanor suddenly switched and her voice became laced with venom,

    “Don’t do that again please, I hate when people ruin my surprises.” Is that a threat? John didn’t have time to think about it, because the small frame of the Asari violently erupted in an angry sea of deadly purple-black energy. John could feel Saetha’s biotics kick in, a subtle gust of air as the low growl of biotic energy radiated outwards. John jumped a few steps back, his biotics cut out, and he’d gasped in surprise before he’d even realized what he’d done. John cursed at himself for the display, some soldier you are! You didn’t even bring up your damned pistol!

    The Drell, Tavian, was probably enjoying every moment of this. A chance to openly mock his favorite target, and make him look like a fool yet again with out even lifting a finger. Before John could even blink, a massive headache threatened to split his skull in two. He’d overdone it. Again. He could feel the warmth of his amp at the base of his head. Just let it go, calm down and let the energy flow away. John’s hands shook violently as a biotic field fluttered around them, winking in and out of existence with a sharp hiss. His Paladin slipped from his hands and clattered to the ground. He clamped his eyes shut and slowly sat down, his head pounding relentlessly behind his eyes. Just calm down, he repeated. Just calm down. Just. Calm. Down. After a moment, John felt the element zero slowly drain from his system, and his hands stopped shaking as violently. He drew a long breath and let it out slower, daring to open his eyes again.

    The light of Illium’s sun felt like a hot dagger to his brain, but he was still conscious. Tavian would have a field day if I passed out. After the initial shock of the light, a new figure appeared in front of John, speaking with Saetha. Another human, by the look of it. The two exchanged a few words, and the damn blue Asari was still speaking obliquely, offering up empty information. Before the two could continue, yet another character decided to drop in. Literally.

    Most of the group seemed to notice the Quarian-thing as it skidded down a patch of loose rubble and finally came to rest after a long, and rather painful fall, it’s helmet rolling over to Saetha’s feet.

    Thankfully, the newcomer didn’t lay still for very long, and it managed to get itself to a sitting position, finally revealing it’s face. To John’s surprise, the newcomer was a Turian Male. If the fact that he was wearing a Quarian-style enviro-suit wasn’t odd enough, he sported an utterly unique facial tattoo, and his legs were…off. Who the hell is this guy?

    John glanced over to Saetha, who had occupied herself with a childish fit of laughter, not at all concerned about whether or not this new guy was hurt. John grabbed his Paladin and jammed it back into it’s holster, striding over to the other Turian and kneeling beside him.

    “Hey, you alright? Anything broken?”

    The newcomer shook his head slowly, “Yeah, I think I’m ok. T-thanks.”

    Hm, his pupils are the same size, and he’s speaking fine. He should be alright. A dark blue patch below the Turian’s armpit caught John’s attention and he scooted around behind the newcomer to find a deep gash running nearly from one shoulder to the other, oozing blood. plops, John thought, slinging off his pack and rummaging through it’s contents. plops! I didn’t bring any medi-gel! He hopped to his feet as Saetha struck up a conversation with the new guy, finally done with her hysterics.

    “T’Soni, don’t let him up, he’s got a nasty gash on his back.” John jogged over to the human with red hair that called herself Rosie, stopping at the doorframe of the warehouse,

    “Hey, Alliance N6 Fox, do you have any medi-gel on you? I’ve got a guy out here who’s bleeding pretty bad, and I don’t have any. Would you mind helping me out? I’ll pay you for the medi-gel.” John paused a moment, hoping that he got her title correct. “You, uh, wouldn’t know anything about what’s going on here, would you? Oh, and do you know the other chick? The N7?” John paused again, “I’m C-Sec Ensign Vakarian, by the way.”
     

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