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Post by Weyrloc Karn on May 1, 2014 21:07:32 GMT -6
He simply grunts at his response, the thought he even considered shaking a turians hand made his blood boil. It was practical taboo for him, a turian isn't to be trusted, to him it was like expecting good things out of salarians.. But he was smart. He knew that this turian was something more then an average mercenary, neither did he have the time or intention to fight him. He glances over at him as he walks on, soon trudging after him. "Charmin'..", he grunts out in a sarcastic tone, grinning soon after as he follows him.
"Artacus Kalmavius.."
For some reason, the name rung through his brain. Karn only met the guy once, but somehow he knew that name would come back to haunt him..
Like most of his choices, he still thought this'd somehow turn into a mistake..
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Post by River Havens on May 2, 2014 4:46:48 GMT -6
Lying back in her hospital bed, River couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt come over her. Guilt that she made her father worry himself into near panic after promising that she wouldn't do anything reckless. Corwin had enough to stress about now that Ben was gone. Auntie could calm him down, but she knew that what Corwin really needed was his friend.
It was times like this that she really started to miss her surrogate uncle.
Uncle Benny had been Corwin's best friend and confidant way before River was ever in the picture. Hell, it was fair bet that if it wasn't for Benny helping Corwin through those early years of fatherhood, River's relationship with her dad probably wouldn't be as it was today. Those first awkward years when River was a wild child armed with powerful biotics that she could barely control, much less her temperament. River remembered fondly how patient her Uncle was with her. He never lost his cool even when she was at her worst, throwing tantrums that were strong enough to destroy their small apartment. Benny knew how to approach a troubled child as she was and how to get her to him and Corwin.
As she waited to be taken to surgery, River tried to summon up some of her favorite memories with her uncle. Times like this, she truly envied the drell's perfect memory...
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Post by Murchadh on May 2, 2014 12:15:53 GMT -6
The bright red light caused the scot to blink several times as he stepped out of the transport. The planet Anat was a beautiful plant even if it sun was a nightmare to get use to. The city was beautiful as well like most of the asari colony worlds. They sure knew how to pick them.
After his eyes adjusted to the light he followed the rest of the passengers to the security station which after showing his ID past through into the transport hubs reception. There was a rather large crowd to meet the various passengers , but out of the whole crowd only one face drew the scot attention.
Her pale blue eyes and purple skin made her stand out against all of her blue skinned kin. He’d became very familiar with those eyes during his time with eclipse. Nelia had been a skilled soldier, hacker and mech gunner.
They’d become very close during their time on the eclipse cruiser. They embarked eternity if you get the meaning of the term. When he’d decided to leave eclipse she’d come with him. It had been great working as freelance mercenaries. Being able to choose your own work and actually feel like you were helping people. It would have been perfect until that day.
Krilpixemia a nasty little asari gene fault which causes a lack of oxygen in there blood cells. There were drugs that could counter it, but they were very expensive. So expensive he’d taken up his current job.
His Arms went around the asari as he pulled her into a loving hug. Every soldier needed something to fight for. Something to keep him thinking off home and if even for a brief moment he was back with his.
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Post by PaladinKOSP on May 2, 2014 13:05:17 GMT -6
The turian adjust his grip on his weapon and wandered off to the gun fire in the distance. He knew that the commotion could lead him to his mark somehow, since the gun fire echoed more louder than any of the other firefights in the station. He could here the heavy footsteps of the krogan behind him, with his massive hammer he dragged along. He didn't trust the krogan, not even a little, but the large numbers of pirates made it dangerous. So, why not make monsters fight monsters? He never was a people person these days, he could never trust anyone else but himself. But when he did trust someone with a task... that's a pretty rare occurrence
"Hmph.. you worry too much.." He thought to himself as he strides along to his destination, being more closer than before.
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Post by Weyrloc Karn on May 2, 2014 15:09:43 GMT -6
The krogan follows on, his gaze moving around the area as he follows the turian. Given his situation, the general fact that he even wanted to work with a turian was eating away at his nerves. It was a turian, why would he, a warrior, a krogan of all people, be trusting someone like him? It sickened him enough, but that annoyance just lead to his bloodlust. The angrier he became, the more he wanted to kill.. Which said attitude became effective in the next few moments, the krogan screeching to a halt as he turns his head. His gaze inspects a heavy mass of vorcha, with a krogan mercenary in plain sight. His toothy grin remained wide as ever, himself turning.
"Ey', bird. Go on ahead to whatever yer' doin'.." He shuffles his shotgun away, taking the hammer he held. His right arm had a noticeable glow, a purple in hue. "I got my own business to take care of..", he turns to look towards the turian, his grin remaining. Before long, however, the krogan soon makes his way down the opposite way.
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Post by PaladinKOSP on May 2, 2014 15:37:10 GMT -6
The turian wanders onward to his location, then the krogan behind him bellowed. "Ey', bird. Go on ahead to whatever yer' doin'.." The krogan says as he grabs his hammer, his right arm glowing purple. "I got my own business to take care of.." The turian turns back to the hulking lizard, scowling under his helmet. "Right... go ahead." He turns back and continues his walk.
A biotic krogan.. most of them are highly respected among their own kind. Battlemasters, warlords, shamans, all wear respected. Himself? Separated from the rest of the military, trained to be a lethal killer, a lap dog of the Hierarchy. A Cabal. But if there was one thing he and the krogan had in common, it is that they're both feared and respected. The turian continued to walk off into the distance, disappearing from the krogans view.
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Post by Weyrloc Karn on May 3, 2014 11:14:41 GMT -6
It was a standard affair at the other end of the hallway, a scattered bunch of Vorcha, with a krogan grunt simply minding his own business. They weren't exactly the smartest around, but it's not like they didn't have a brain in their heads, just a masculinity complex.. The sheer sight of the armor annoyed him, everything about the Blood Pack did. Karn wasn't too happy, well.. If you could compare happiness to the urge to grind someones head into the nearest wall.. He wasn't too thrilled it was another krogan either.. But, given his situation, it was the money or nothing at this point and he definitely, wasn't in the mood to lose that payout.
With the turian gone, he was free to enjoy himself without the strains of a stubborn bird on his shoulders.. "Better hope yer' head comes off..", he mutters to himself, the hammer in his hand readied. Not truly a man of cloak and daggers.. Honestly, anyone would doubt Karn's attitude on "subtlety".. He stepped forward, his body soon wrapped in a haze of blue.. Soon enough, he practically shoots forwards, a biotic field surrounding him in his heated charge. His arm arches, his entire might shifting into that single hammer. He swings it into the side of the krogans helmet, a loud, somewhat 'satisfying' crunch could be heard. The poor bastard never even expected it, his whole form slamming into the nearby wall. The vorcha in the room scream practically, bounding away in fear, probably not even expecting that of all things!
Karn turns to face the now, probably severely damaged krogan. It was a gruesome sight.. Blood, shards of scaled plates.. If he looked hard enough, he probably knocked his eye out.. It was a nasty business.. But with a brief 'prayer' on Karn's behalf, respect still somewhat existent from his side.. He raises his hammer again, raining a series of blows, ending a life, as if it was mercy.. He steps away, another coat of blood strained across his form. He pants lowly, before looking down the corridor the vorcha fled down. "Twenty down..", he mutters again, soon returning to his grin. "These assholes ain't even worth the money..", he looks back to the corpse, before walking along. "And fuck me, I love it!", he bellows out in an heavy laugh.
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2014 18:28:21 GMT -6
Iskra sat quietly in her living quarters on the ship. It had been over a week since she had left River with her father at the hospital and already she was back on Hanri's ship as if the last few weeks never happened.
Course she remembered every second of it, the echos of Ben's dying breaths still further breaking the pieces of her heart. The feeling of failure as River hurt herself so horribly and not being able to get over her own fears to help the girl herself. The crew all making an impact on her at once point or another, she'd never forget their faces but she was sure they would forget hers.
The young doctor sighed and pushed away the images. The distraction of the last few weeks had been an unwelcomed break from her research and she needed to continue onward.
Parr jumped up from her feet, his tail wagging as he playfully growls. "Your guard dog is truly terrifying, little pale one."
Isrka smiled slightly at the old Turian, "He is if you were actually threatening."
The Turian laughed and patted the Varren's head. "We're coming up on Rakhana. Are we dropping you off at the normal site?"
Iskra shook her head, rising from her seat. The long trip had allowed her to refocus on her latest goal, traveling into the worst area on the planet. She had continued to put it off since the decay in that area was so horrible that she'd only be able to stay there for a few minutes before her armor would start feeling the effects of the radiation.
"I am going to need you to shuttle me in a specific area." She brought up a map of the planet and pointed at a dark mark on the surface. "The radiation is bad so I will need an extraction within a few minutes. I have no idea if we will be able to keep in contact via comm so you come pull me out as soon as 10 minutes is up."
The Captain stared at the mark and the data she had given him for a long moment, "Are you sure about this?"
"No. But this is what will be the turning point of my work...I just know it."
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Post by Eric Lysander on May 3, 2014 23:29:57 GMT -6
In a sparse grey room in the ambassadorial section of the Citadel a long-faced human male in his late fifties sat at a table across from Eric Lysander, taking a drag off a cigarette as his eyes shifted between the Alliance dropout and the open data terminal between them.
“Please understand,” exhaled the man. “You’re not simply another ex-officer looking for reinstatement… you were one of our elite. You exceeded everyone’s expectations, redefined yourself. You were on the verge of your own command… and then suddenly… you walked away. Turned your back on a bright future within the Alliance. And now you’ve returned looking for another chance... you can see why I can’t help but be a bit… curious?”
Eric, slouched in his seat, gestured to the nearby hovercam and the two stiff Alliance guardsmen on either side of the man.
”Are the heat lamp and matching bookends curious, too?”
The guards did not react but the man wheezed and shook slightly, dabbing off charred cigarette into an ashtray.
“You have a singular wit… Mr. Lysander.”
After glancing at another item on the terminal the man put out his cigarette and sat upright, prompting Eric to do likewise.
“This is not an interrogation; you’re not being charged with any crime or this would be a very short meeting and a matter for C-Sec. I'm here to evaluate your fitness to return to duty… make certain that you’ll be… happy to stay on with us this time.”
“I’m willing to make more of a commitment now,” said Eric in a mildly suspicious tone as he folded his hands in front.
The man tapped some keys on the terminal, activating the hovercam. “We shall see… date, time – mark. Cronauer, Willard R. Major, N7. Review of Petition for Reinstatement Number 376-TY5-2… please identify yourself for the record. Name, rank and service number… you don’t have to look into the camera.”
“Right, uh… Lysander, Eric. Commander, N7. Service Number 3138-EB-5513…”
Cronauer scrolled up to Eric’s vitals on the terminal. “Earthborn, North American Territories. Chicago.”
“S’right.”
“…the Red Section…” said Cronauer with slight unease, knowledgeable of the criminal elements that made their home there.
“Can’t always choose our neighbors,” Eric deflected.
Cronauer continued reading down Eric’s file. “Parents were divorced when you were aged twelve. Mother succumbed to cancer when you were twenty six. One elder sister, currently married with two grown children. Twins.” He looked up at Eric. “Keep in touch with the family?”
“Maybe you should've brought along a couch and some Kleenex,” grumbled Eric.
“Mr. Lysander, childhood can have a great impact on one's view of the world. What one chooses to do with their life… even if you don’t believe that yourself…”
Eric looked at his lap and around the room. “… we’re talking again… nephews are a hoot. Dad’s… calmed down…”
Cronauer nodded and grunted, scrolling up more information. “In 2164 you were part of the exchange program with the turians on planet Bysorrn, under the Consley-Schacter Accord.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Civilian branch.”
“Yeah. Food services.”
“Doing?”
“Was a waiter and janitor at this turian joint, Mannikreck’s. Then I moved over to Maya Pizza as a delivery boy.”
“Is that so?”
“Yessir.”
“So you were there at the start, before the chain spread all over.”
“Yep. Fun place, great food-“
“Don’t really care for it,” dismissed Cronauer. “… now this is interesting. Am I to understand… that you first met Commander Shepard on Bysorrn as a child?”
“I was going on eighteen. Shep was the child… ten…”
"Good friends?"
"Rough start; things smoothed out after that... yeah, we got along pretty good."
“Mmm… I also understand you had some… unfortunate business with a warehouse fire the-“
“That was supposed ta be wiped off my record!” Eric protested.
“Mr. Lysander, I have been granted special access to the totality of your file, including portions sealed off to the justice system. Seems Commander Shepard's parents called in some favors to... give you a new lease on life.”
Eric exhaled audibly and recalled “'Enlistment and three tours of duty... in exchange for a clean slate.'"
"Quite ironic, the situation that led to your deal," Cronauer observed. "You left Earth accused of starting a fire you never did only to actually set one on Bysorrn... to stop a drug cartel from expanding its territory." Eric shifted in his seat as his interviewer elaborated. "You may be interested to know that the cold case was re-opened a few years ago after new evidence came to light. It was found that although the incendiary device used was based off a firework shell design you were working on at the time... and your very public falling out with your employer, it was not possible for you to have set the blaze that killed him. A co-worker was the culprit."
"Who?"
Cronauer consulted the terminal. "Henri Woulichek - worked with you on the July 4th display. Was tapped by one of the syndicates to kill Boss Gene after he refused to grant them more interest in his business."
Eric held in a laugh. "... little whore Henri... never could say no to a payday..." He then thought back on his own actions on Bysorrn, the abduction and torture that resulted from them.
"I made sure no one was in the building... wanted to get my uncle outta his deal, make 'em think it was my fault... they had enough poison to get everyone there hooked and then some, hidden in the lining of the damn crates! Figured I could turn myself in, cops could keep me safe... boy was I wrong... those cartel goons didn't like their stuff goin' up in flames onnne bit... if it wasn't for Shep's folks... I'd be dead..."
"Is that why you stayed on?"
"Huh?"
"You served the time required. You were eligible for honorable discharge but instead you stayed on... you felt you owed the Shepards."
"There was that N7 offer for my little stunt at the Cerberus base, if you've read that part," the applicant pointed at the terminal screen. "I thought about leavin'... but then I figured let me see how far I can run with this."
"And you ran quite far, Mr. Lysander," said Cronauer, calling up Eric's actions on the terminal. "From your initial work on Vranta disarming a explosive/germ device to the destruction of the runaway experiment inside that Cerberus base. From the pursuit and capture of pirate lord Zaicress at Wolff Bridge to your work in pushing back geth incursions into the Attican Traverse following Eden Prime... at great cost to the units under you..."
Cronauer let Eric take in his words.
"And then one day word came of Shepard's death... and right afterwards... you quit."
Eric said nothing.
"But the commander's death proved nothing more than rumor. Humanity's hero returned... and now you wish to return."
"Your point?" Eric barked.
"Are you returning for yourself, Eric Lysander... or for Shepard?"
Eric was silent again.
"Your debt's paid. You said so yourself, you once wanted to leave and you eventually did. And managed to scratch out a good living for yourself as a gun for hire."
"I worked mostly dig sites and guard details," Eric amended. "Provided geological expertise, too. Any search and destroy ops were with other mercs and usually against folks that deserved to get aired out. I don't work for slavers and I'm no contract killer... only did one bounty job but she was brought in alive. Was strapped for creds at the time."
Cronauer ratcheted up his psychoanalysis of Eric. "Even so, it wasn't quite the same as being in the service, was it? With Shepard - your ward - at your side facing danger. Relying on each other. Carousing, commiserating... Shepard was more family to you than your own. Wasn't that why you applied to be the commander's mentor in N7?"
"Hey, I was mentored, too, just like a lotta other inductees. I did what the program required of me, returning the favor-"
"Returning the favor by helping the child of your saviors."
Eric wanted to speak but held his tongue. Cronauer hit a nerve.
"Son... don't you think it's time to start living more for yourself?"
Eric breathed for a minute then shot a parting glance at the guardsmen bordering Cronauer. "I guess I didn't really think this through enough... sorry for wastin' your time. Am I free to go?"
"Mr. Lysander, please," Cronauer held out a hand for Eric to keep his seat. "I didn't mean to imply the concern you have for your friend was a detriment to you. On the contrary, it's quite admirable."
Cronauer deactivated the terminal and the hovercam. Eric did his best to disguise his suspicion; as in the vids he enjoyed, the shutting off of recording devices was often the sign of conspiracy afoot.
"My part in these proceedings is to give my own assessment of your character and record to command. I won't be among those who make the final decision... but there is a marked interest in having you back."
Eric folded his hands in front again. "... go on..."
Cronauer emulated the earthborn. "There are still formalities to endure, some processing time required... but you can be brought back under the promotion you turned down."
"I can come back as a full Captain?"
"Oh, yes," Cronauer seemed pleased that Eric was interested. "With eligibility for starship command..."
"But?" Eric admitted that he knew his re-appointment was not without a price.
"... only after you complete an assignment for us..."
Eric despised the figurative teeth pulling of this discussion but forced himself to keep on. "What... do you want from me?"
Cronauer unfolded his hands. Now he appeared somewhat ill at ease. "We would like you to... acquire... the present whereabouts of Commander Shepard... try to re-enter the fold if possible... rekindle the friendship you had..."
Cronauer could feel Eric's eyes push into him.
"The Alliance is just as concerned for Shepard's welfare as you are. To be quite frank... the company the commander runs with now leaves a great deal to be desired. Cerberus is a terrorist organization; you've seen firsthand what they're capable of, the lengths they'll go to achieve their goals. There have been some disturbing suspicions that Shepard may have been... compromised. Being forced to work with them... or a willing conspirator. Some of the commander's former crew have deserted us as well to side with their friend and leader. Which could be all the more to serve Cerberus' ends."
Eric could not believe the gall this man possessed. He allowed his growing disgust to seep through.
"... you want me back to spy on Shepard..."
"And why not? You know Shepard better than most. You were the commander's childhood friend, compatriot and superior. You could judge for yourself if our prodigal still speaks for the Alliance. You would have our full support in case our fears are confirmed and our assurance that no actions will be taken against the commander... if you deem they aren't necessary."
Eric still gave an icy stare.
"You and Shepard are on separate paths now, make no mistake. This... is an opportunity to keep your friend from straying down the path you were rescued from. You may find that the person you knew... has changed beyond recognition. Shepard may not want your help... or may be unable to ask for it. You can help your friend once again. You could bring the commander back to us.... you... could be the hero... instead of living in the shadow of one."
Cronauer spoke the truth; Eric did know Commander Shepard well. Throughout their friendship on Bysorrn and their pairing in N7 training and ship assignments prior to command of the Normandy, Eric had been witness to Shepard's character. It was one that inspired others to be better than one could be on their own. That offered different viewpoints without deriding one's current views. Commander Shepard could never betray those in trust to serve some selfish desire. Whatever entanglements the commander was in at present, it was only until a way out could be found. With any luck the commander's considerable influence would see to that.
Eric had heard enough. "Like I said, Mr. Cronauer... I didn't think this through enough. May I please go?"
Cronauer sat back in his chair and fished out a fresh cigarette. "Yes... you can go. Take some time to think about our offer, get any outstanding affairs in order. You'll be receiving an encrypted message from me shortly. If you do accept our terms, simply reply and you'll receive further instruction."
Eric got up from his seat quickly.
"If I were you I wouldn't try to warn Shepard about our meeting today. Then again, your message might go unread along with all the others."
The revelation of covert taps into Eric's communications made him spin about and charge the desk. The guardsmen men moved in the demo expert's direction only to be held back by the N7 major's upheld hand. Eric stood in his place as the others resumed theirs.
"You were one of our best. You've gone a little soft around the edges... but nothing that's beyond salvaging. Think it over very carefully, Mr. Lysander. You may have escaped the Red Section but I wonder how much of it still resides within you. We both know something's about to happen. A reckoning is at hand. One day you'll be forced to choose a side. Be sure you know where your loyalties lie. And remember that no matter what you decide... we'll be watching you..."
Eric rolled his shoulders and swiveled his head. He looked each guardsman in the eyes and then looked to Cronauer.
"Watch this," said Eric.
He raised the back of his hand to the present company and extended a middle finger. Eric walked out of the room holding the middle finger at his back. As he turned past the door and moved further, he craned his arm outwards to keep his extended digit in view.
"Still watching?" he called out, wagging it before pulling it away.
Cronauer blew out a large cloud of synthetic tobacco and menthol as he allowed his cigarette to plunk onto the ashtray. One guard barely contained a snort.
"He's not coming back, sir," commented the other.
"Probably not," agreed Cronauer. "But you saw him; he cares about Shepard. He may have enough credits to afford a ship and crew but not enough to keep them. And he's not about to run afoul of the law again... this is his only option and he knows it. He may come around yet."
The day's business concluded, the guardsmen escorted Major Willard Cronauer out of the room and down towards the docking bay. Once there they were relieved by other soldiers and they each went their separate ways for some rest and relaxation prior to debarking for Central Command. While eating a bowl of steamed noodles at his favorite restaurant in the Lower Wards one guard activated his omnitool and composed a message...
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ENCRYPT MESSAGE LEVEL BLACK KEY: TRE-908M To: SB1 From: Agent N7-007 --------------------------------- An interesting encounter today.
Was present at a meeting where a former officer tried to reapply for service. Commander Eric Lysander. This man had been Commander Shepard's N7 mentor as well as a childhood friend. His loyalty is absolute. Turned down a promotion to Captain in return for his help in monitoring the commander. Even had the nerve to flip us off as he left.
I have to admit I can't help but like this man.
Alliance Intelligence has been keeping tabs on him as well. They may be forced to act if his activities continue to run counter to their interests. It would be a shame to lose him. He can be a valuable asset to our network if he can even be persuaded to work with us.
I'm sure this intel is worth something. I will report any further developments as I get them.
Awaiting your reply.
....
ENCRYPT MESSAGE LEVEL BLACK KEY: TRE-908M To: Agent N7-007 From: SB1 -------------------------------- Most interesting indeed.
Eric Lysander is not unknown to me. I recently procured his services for a client. He has been keeping busy since his "retirement" from military service and knowledge of his personal connection to Commander Shepard may prove a useful commodity.
You will receive the appropriate bonus for this information. I thank you for your continued service to our network and know that this potential asset will come to no harm though he is more than capable of defending himself.
His devotion has not gone unnoticed by his friend.
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Post by Deleted on May 6, 2014 5:08:40 GMT -6
Iskra squinted in the bright light as the shuttle opened the side door. The glass tint of her helmet quickly adjusted to a darker setting, allowing her to see the area for the first time. The corrupted landscape scarred with dark markings all coming from somewhere in the ruins reached out towards the world, trying to spread its plague further.
“10 min…Doc…rei.” The pilot yelled over the comm, the radiation eating through the signal even at this range.
Iskra jumped down and started running. This area would always be such a mystery to her but now was not the time to stop and admire the view. She had to find the source today. This was her only chance for a few weeks, since the Captain would have to go on his way tomorrow.
It was that silence again, accepting her back with open arms like an old friend. The world lay still, her feet kicking up dust that had been untouched for years. Her lungs pleasantly burned as she flew through the ruins. The dark marks becoming thicker and darker. She was getting close.
Jumping over a fallen wall, Iskra felt the floor under her give out.
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Post by PaladinKOSP on May 7, 2014 11:39:30 GMT -6
Artacus heard the krogan's maniacal laugh in the distance, shrugging his shoulder as he picks up his speed. "Enjoy your fun.." He said quietly, jumping to his vantage point above and disappears into the shadows. He loved these types of advantage points, especially the shadows. It surrounds him in a black shroud, like a blanket, stalking his victims and waiting to strike... but there was no time to think of that now, he must focus on his objective.
The turian shadowed along to his target, gazing down at the commotion below. Sure enough, there was a massive firefight. Both krogan's and vorcha on one side, and a small batch of armed civilians on the other. By his prespective, the civilians were losing, but they were none of his concern. His target mattered. He scanned the scene for the mark, looking and looking. And sure enough, there he was. A krogan.. in front of the haze of gunfire, firing away at the civilians.
He knew it was going to be a challenge... and exciting one.
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Post by Corwin Havens on May 8, 2014 0:57:11 GMT -6
Corwin sat quietly in the recovery ward, next to his sleeping daughter. He wanted to smile, fix her hair to make her presentable. He wanted to be the father again... with River being his baby girl. He heaved a sigh, turning toward the window overlooking the Presidium lake. He could see that cold, crystal-clear water the visiting Krogans can't stop talking about. He stared for a moment longer trying to find any hint of fish.
He couldn't spot any...
He nearly rose up to his feet when he stopped himself. He wasn't going to leave his daughter's side.
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Post by River Havens on May 8, 2014 1:10:15 GMT -6
The first thing she was made aware of as she came to was just how. cotton-mouthed she was. Her back teeth felt like sandpaper, a stale taste lingered on her tongue and her throat was incredibly parched. The back of her head felt heavy with pressure, like she had been sleeping in one position for far too long. Her eyes squinted against the harsh lightening of her room where she saw a foggy image of someone standing at her bedside.
"Dad?"
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Post by Corwin Havens on May 8, 2014 1:37:01 GMT -6
"Dad?" Corwin heard his daughter ask weakly.
His bright blue eyes widened.. his mind went a mile a minute, struggling to find the right words.. he wanted to say so much.. tell his daughter he loved her and was terrified. He wanted her to be safe and smart.. tell her how proud he was of her coming back alive from her first mission.. He ran his hand through his short blond hair, heaving a breath.....
"You're grounded," he responded, having no idea why the hell he said that... he blinked in surprise.
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Post by River Havens on May 8, 2014 2:15:34 GMT -6
She should've seen that one coming. She frowned and shook her head, turning away from her dad.
"I guess it's pointless to tell you that there was no other way huh? That if I didn't do what I did, the whole mission would've been a failure."
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Post by Corwin Havens on May 8, 2014 15:14:16 GMT -6
"I guess it's pointless to tell you that there was no other way huh? That if I didn't do what I did, the whole mission would've been a failure."
Corwin reached out for his daughter, setting his hand on her shoulder.. giving a reassuring squeeze.
"River," Corwin started, weighing his words carefully. "We both know you're not grounded. You're old enough to make your own decisions... I get concerned when those decisions almost get you killed."
Corwin lowered himself, sitting on the bed next to her. He turned just enough to face her while his legs dangled from the side. He continued talking, taking on a fatherly tone. "You have to learn your own limitations with biotics. Combat is very different than any training your Uncle Ben or I showed you. It gets dangerous. One wrong move and you're dead."
Corwin let go of her shoulder, scooping up her hand between his two hands. "It's why I need to do one more thing for you. Once you recover, I'm going to do something that I really should have done a year ago. We'll do a job together, you and I. There are a few tricks I'm still yet to show you."
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Post by River Havens on May 8, 2014 16:27:20 GMT -6
"Trust me Dad. I know my limits as a biotic."
River really didn't want to get nasty or angry with her dad. She was half expecting a fight with him about her biotics. It was a topic that had been battled over maybe once or twice in their years together. Whereas Corwin wanted to River to be cautious, she wanted to go as far as she could go.
At times, it felt like Corwin wanted to keep her in a bubble. But her dad wasn't like that. His concerns were legitimate ones.
"You want to do another job? Aren't you like, retired? And what about my team?"
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Post by Joe Fischer on May 10, 2014 8:13:36 GMT -6
"Living easy, loving free..."
"Sing it, Bon," Joe said as he finished putting the N7 Crusader shotgun together.
Marty had come through with the weapons, and even more importantly, the armor he wanted. Even with all the security, supply sergeants can still find a way to "lose" some items...
Like any good Marine, the first thing he did with his new weapons and equipment was to inspect them, which meant disassembling them, inspecting them for any flaws, cleaning them and reassembling them. Once he had done that, he had done it again. And again.
Three times was excessive, but he knew it was really a dodge, a way to avoid doing what he knew he had to do. You've faced down a charging krogan with a just a Carnifex without batting an eye, but this scares the shit out of you.
I dare you, Joe...
He stopped just as Bon started wailing about no stop signs, went over to the vidphone and dialled a number, keeping his hand over the camera. If anyone but the person he wanted to talk to answered, he would hang up.
"Hello?" came the voice of his mother.
He could count on one hand the number of time he had really talked to his mother. It's not that he didn't love her, but most of the time when he needed advice, he needed it from his father. He dropped his hand off the camera.
"Joe!" she cried, then leaned in closer. "Are you okay? The MPs stopped by, the things they said...you have me and your father worried..."
He wanted to laugh. Dad? Worried? When volus fly...
"I'm fine, Mom, I just..." he trailed off, at a loss as to what to say. "My head, it..."
He trailed off again, and he could see the fear in her eyes, but she said nothing, waiting for him to finish. If it had been his father, he'd be getting into his face, using that sergeant voice he had perfected over 30 years of service, pushing him for answers right now.
"Mom, I'm fine, I just...need to sort some things out," he said. "I can't do it at the hospital, it's too...quiet."
The fear in her eyes doubled as she knew what he meant. The daughter of a Marine lifer, she'd married another Marine life, and raised another one, so she knew the jargon well. He was shipping out again.
She wet her lips several times before saying, "Be safe, Joe."
He felt a lump rise in his throat. She had been there to see him off on every deployment, she had said those words every time and every time he fought in vain to keep his eyes from welling up.
He started to say I will but then stopped himself. He was going to places unknown with people unknown to do things unknown. "I'll call," he said, and hung up.
He went over to a couch, flopped onto it, and turned the music back on, cranking the volume up to maximum. "Hey momma, look at me, I'm on my way to the promised land..."
"Tell me about it," he said, closing his eyes, letting the tears roll down.
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Post by Esteban Bridges on May 11, 2014 1:47:03 GMT -6
Esteban leaned against one of the dozen tables in his personal office, each table littered with every data pad and trinket that he was able to salvage from the Nithian base. He confirmed that's what the alien race called themselves. Nithians. All the documents and technology he examined showed the Nithians had a sort of intuitive understanding of technology. For them, it was both a science and an art. Each had form and function, but something else... a type of perfection that couldn't be quantified. Esteban wanted to take them apart to see how they worked, but that would be like defiling the Mona Lisa. It would be a crime against aesthetics. So he settled for scanning each and every one with his omnitool and uploading all the information into his VI, Data.
"Sir," his VI spoke up. "I am noticing an anomaly in the information."
Esteban lifted his eyes away from the silver triangular object in his hand and over at the holographic projection. He had Data appear to be just like the old science fiction show Star War Trek.
"What did you find?" Esteban asked, siding his thumb over the smooth surface.
"There are only six references to biotics within the Nithian archive," Data observed casually. "Given the volume of data present in the archives, I was anticipating over thirty trillion references. The absence of information on biotics is.. it is surprising."
"Not every alien race can be the same," Esteban commented, setting the Nithian trinket down onto the table. "Asari seem to have natural biotic abilities while humans have to be exposed to eezo to develop them. If that exposure never happened, you'd see almost no reference to biotics in any human archives either."
"Doubtful," Data shifted, leaning back on his left leg. "Every other race in the galaxy has experimented with Eezo in some form or another. Many of the same experiments were mirrored in the Nithian archives. They would have uncovered biotics."
"So, why would they not have documented it?"
"Simple," Data smiled. "It stands to reason the Nithians did not see biotics as noteworthy."
"They would be the first," Esteban quipped.
"Nithian military strategy focused on technological adaption," Data held out his right hand, forming a series of holographic graphs. "Every piece they created could be modified within moments for increased utilitarian value."
Esteban stepped over to the neon orange holographic projection of his VI to get a closer look at the charts. He spent a few minutes examining the tables and charts before speaking again. "They favored technology to the exclusion of biotics.... odd."
"Odd?"
"Yeah," Esteban nodded, shifting between the tables. "It's odd to see an entire race specialize like this. I am not sure if it is a cultural attribute or if they were biologically predisposed to this."
Esteban walked forward, passing through the holographic field. It flickered briefly before reforming. "Nithian DNA is dissimilar to every other active race in Citadel space," Data turned to face Esteban while he walked away. "It is difficult to account for biological factors. Cultural would seem far more likely."
"I see," Esteban walked over to his sink to get a glass of water. "Did you run the comparison between Nithian DNA and the results from Chorban and Jahleed?"
"Of course"
"And the results?"
"75% similarities," Data answered without missing a beat. "Nithian DNA is far more complex. It is as if Keeper DNA is a simplified version, like it was stripped down."
Esteban sipped his water, considering what Data said...
[end of part 1]
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Post by Maelstrom on May 12, 2014 0:19:38 GMT -6
Maelstrom laid on his bed back in his quarters. His armor lay in a pile a few feet away. He was not sure if it was wise to be out of his armor while there was still a group of Blood Pack krogan in the main compartment of his ship, but he trusted Emily to deal with them if they got any ideas. Truthfully, he was more concerned about the effects a group of Blood Pack krogan would have on the plumbing of his shuttle's lavatory before they got back to the station. Still, he was glad for Jul's presence on the last mission, as well as that of the batarian engineer.
A holographic display of Emily popped up. Rather than the simplistic form he was used to seeing her in, she was in her more feminine form. The setting she wore only for him. He knew what she was going to say before she said it. It was something he asked her to nag him about weeks ago. "Are you going to write that message to River now?"
Part of him still wanted to put it off. He had enough on his mind right now that he did not want to think about the message. Something, though, told him it was time.
"Begin recording," he commanded.
"To Miss Havens,
If you are well, you have no doubt by now discovered the pair of Collector SMG's I left for you. It was my way of repaying the debt owed to you for taking out that damned Praetorian. I've practiced with mine. They're decent weapons, and they don't run out of ammo like conventional guns. They should come in handy, if you choose to use them. If not, sell them for credits; they should certainly be worth a few.
That said, Miss Havens, I know you have a connection to- Emily, italicize this next word- them in your past. If you still work for- Emily, italicize this next word- them, then the day will come when you and I are at odds. Should that day come, Miss Havens, remember that my debt to you has been repaid. If I so much as catch a hint that you are working for- Emily, italicize this next word- them, then only one of us will be walking away. And it will be me.
Get well soon.
Sincerely, Maelstrom"
He sighed. Though he knew it was no Shakespeare, not even a particularly friendly message, he knew it was the best he would be able to manage.
"Emily, go ahead and send that as soon as we drop out of FTL."
The VI seemed hesitant. What a wonderful personality emulation. With a cautious voice, it asked, "Are you sure? This could be interpreted as antagonistic."
"It's meant to be, Emily. If she's with Cerberus, I can't afford to wonder any longer."
"And if she's not?"
He laughed. "If she's not, then I'll most likely find an ally in my quest. I find that people in Cerberus databases tend to be of one extreme or the other."
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