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Post by Murchadh on Aug 15, 2014 15:24:02 GMT -6
Down in the ships cargo bay the sound of whistling echoed through the empty room as the Scottish mech pilot went about his work of prepping his mech for the mission. All the checks he'd done showed his mech was working perfectly. He was glad so close to a mission he'd hate for the team not to have the firepower. He'd admit he'd rather grown fond of this group of misfits.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Aug 16, 2014 15:38:51 GMT -6
"I am friends with the man who hired Esteban, the man who paid for this ship and these expeditions," said Iskra.
"That Corwin guy, right." Eric pointed up an index finger. "He cares about your situation, thought Bridges could help out..."
Eric tried to sort out and separate the ruminations in his head, his own worries from the concerns of the team. Too many variables had popped up, not of the tactical variety that he could better grasp. People at times could be more sensitive and do more damage than any explosive. It was moments like these that he envied Shepard's diplomacy skills. But he had a feeling there was something in that tangle that could help Iskra. He folded his arms and let out a breath.
"Can't see why everyone can't get what they want outta this mission. I've been wondering if our fearless leader wants to shut down Udina for the good of humanity or for revenge. Whatever his reason he probably feels as strongly about it as you feel about saving your homeworld, to the point where it's startin' to blind him to other people's concerns - sound familiar? Maybe that common ground will have him seein' eye to eye with you."
Eric rested his hand behind him on the countertop.
"Course that's tryin' to appeal to his finer sensibilities. Could be a waste of time. Then you'd wanna deal with him as a businessman. Demand to know what changed in your contract or what you didn't provide for him to renege on his end of the deal... and if that doesn't work..."
Eric hesitated. Iskra was taking a chance confiding in the people before her, the senior N7 being the only familiar face. One of the new faces was only a stowaway hours earlier that managed to prove her usefulness to Esteban and the team as another tech. A wily tech who did not seem to go by the rules or have any loyalties. Much like Eric used to be.
"We can always go behind his back. I'm on the team that's takin' over the Collector base command center, remember?" He looked at Morgan. "And Little Miss Action here's handy with an omni-tool. Maybe between the two of us we can manage a wiretap under Bridge's nose, find the data you need."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Aug 16, 2014 17:02:32 GMT -6
"Whoa whoa whoa, easy there Pops," Joe said. "Since when did the boss back out of his deal with Iskra? I only remember his not liking how she handled her nomination to be team leader."
Less than an hour before the mission starts, and we're squabbling like a bunch of little girls, he thought. Is it too late to go back being an N7?
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Aug 17, 2014 23:05:10 GMT -6
Esteban marched from the med bay to the stairs going up, nodding to a couple crew members along the way. It was best not to be rude, though his mood quickly turned foul no more than a minute ago. He did not care for anything about what unfolded in the med bay. Too much drama playing out in public when he felt disputes should be kept private. He sighed, stopping about at the middle of the stairs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was gentle, the reinforced metal of his armor did not have the same give as his skin. Last thing he needed was breaking his own nose. That would be a strange way to re-engage the doctor after that.
With a sigh, he continued walking up the stairs. This time, he watched his steps. While he was not sure, he might have been stomping his feet. Such behavior would not do for him. He grabbed the railing to ensure he steadied himself and finished the climb, making his way over to the table... past the exercise area.
"Data," Esteban said in a cool, measured tone. His anger was still seeping through, despite his effort to control it. "For now on when you can detect Iskra on any of your sensors, go into condition beta, code red. Caution would be wise here."
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. He had another problem to deal with. The Seeker Swarm. Iskra added insult to insult by refusing to administer the counter-measure, rather leaving it for him to take like a common begger. He shook his head again and took a deeper breath.. remaining calm. He had a new problem to deal with. The Seeker Swarm. His pride would not allow him to go back. So instead, he resolved himself to approach the problem from a new angle.
"And display the information on the Seekers that I purchased earlier," he continued on, preparing to research. Engineering at its finest, he thought to himself. Working under an unrealistic time crunch with limited resources, needing to pull out a miracle. He got to work, staring as the information scrolled across the screen of his omnitool....
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Post by Morgan Bryn on Aug 18, 2014 17:51:07 GMT -6
“Morgan, did we forget several hours ago? She lifted up all those boxes around you... by herself...! And you wanna dig into her...? Not smart," Eric admonished, and Morgan felt herself bristle. She wasn't 'digging into' the Drell, she was just asking simple questions. If the Drell decided she didn't want to answer, that was her own prerogative, as far as Morgan was concerned, and she was well within her right to do so.
Morgan patiently listened to Eric continue, and was just about to insert her own two-cents, when Iskra spoke up, clearly beyond frustrated.
"Would you stop assuming what I need and actually ask me?!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table.
Morgan chewed on her lip, staying completely silent as Iskra instructed them that what she had to say could not leave the room. When she put the entire medbay on lockdown, Morgan could feel the tension level in the room raise several degrees, but trusted the Drell not to do anything rash while they were all cornered.
She listened carefully to the Drell's story, almost feeling bad that Iskra had no idea she was detailing such sensitive intel directly to an information broker, but it was ultimately up to Morgan to decide what info needed to be leaked, and which should never be spread. It didn't happen very often, but she'd come across information much too dangerous to share with the galaxy - she knew the difference, and the responsibility such a position entailed.
There was some back and forth between the three crew members present before Eric spoke up again, seemingly unsure how to take all this new information that he'd been dealt.
"I’m guessin’ you and Bridges have history or you know someone who’s got history with him that gave you an in,” Eric commented.
Something flickered behind Iskra's eyes. "I am friends with the man who hired Esteban, the man who paid for this ship and these expeditions."
The statement immediately caught Morgan's attention. She'd specifically asked Bridges who had hired him and he said no one had. He had mentioned a financial backer, but that was hardly the same thing when he'd indicated he was working of his own volition. Morgan made a mental note to look up the name 'Corwin' as soon as she was able. She needed to know far more about this man than Bridges had let on.
Morgan found herself slowly pacing as she listened to Eric and Iskra speaking, wondering for the thousandth time what she'd gotten herself into by accepting this mission. She could very much see Eric's point regarding revenge versus duty, and the implications only made the situation worse in Morgan's mind. She may have done some underhanded things in her life, but she did not enjoy being lied to, especially when a business deal was concerned.
There was a momentary lull in the conversation before Eric spoke up again. "We can always go behind his back. I'm on the team that's takin' over the Collector base command center, remember?" He looked at Morgan. "And Little Miss Action here's handy with an omni-tool. Maybe between the two of us we can manage a wiretap under Bridge's nose, find the data you need."
Morgan looked between the two, knowing full well that double-crossing her new boss was likely putting herself at even more risk, but at the same time the promise of such data was tantalizing.
"I'd be more than willing," she replied sincerely, hoping she was judging these two well enough to put her faith in them.
Suddenly Joe, who had been equally as quiet as Morgan, spoke up beside them. "Whoa whoa whoa, easy there, Pops. Since when did the boss back out of his deal with Iskra? I only remember his not liking how she handled her nomination to be team leader."
Joe had stated he was new to the team as well. She understood his desire to be loyal, but if they were being tricked, could they really afford to let anyone pull the wool over their eyes?
"Joe, you saw Bridges' face when Iskra brought up her side of the mission," she stated, trying to sound understanding so as not to spook Joe. "I'm something of a professional people-watcher, and that was not a look of recognition. He's too angry to think straight. His pride is damaged right now. He didn't even take his inoculation. This is way too personal for him."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Aug 18, 2014 19:57:23 GMT -6
"...this is way too personal for him," Morgan concluded.
"I don't know about that," Joe said. "What I do know is that Iskra called him an idiot in front of the team. Not too many COs just take that and not come down like a ton of bricks."
He turned to the doctor. "For the record, I thought you had some valid points, you just didn't express them tactfully," he continued. "I suggest you go to him one-on-one with the pretext of giving him his inoculation. Once you do that, apologize to him for your tone, but not your concerns. I think he'll be much more receptive to what you have to say."
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: "CO" is another military acronym which stands for "commanding officer".]
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 18, 2014 20:33:07 GMT -6
Iskra felt her soul fall back to gentle shores, relieved that some of her sanity seemed to be in check as Eric and Morgan agreed to help if they could. Joe continued to defend Esteban and she felt a stab of hurt as he suggested that her feelings should be pushed aside for the sake of appeasing the man who had just betrayed her trust.
"...I think he'll be much more receptive to what you have to say."
Iskra reopened the locked medbay quietly, allowing the air of the door opening fill the silence. She grabbed the tubes for both Esteban and Joe and handed them to the N7, "Please take this to Mr. Bridges and make sure you both get treated with the serum and then continue to get ready for your mission. I am sure your presence in the cargo hold will be needed soon."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Aug 18, 2014 22:22:03 GMT -6
"...I am sure your presence in the cargo hold will be needed soon."
*****
"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU WANT!!!" he roared, getting right in her face. "THIS PETTINESS OF YOURS IS ENDANGERING THE MISSION! IT IS PUTTING LIVES AT RISK, AND I AM NOT GOING TO HAVE IT HERE! YOU ARE GOING TO TAKE THAT INOCULATION TO THE BOSS, YOU ARE GOING TO GIVE IT TO HIM, AND YOU ARE GOING TO APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR COMPLETE LACK OF PROFESSIONALISM! DO YOU HEAR ME, MARINE?!?!?!"
*****
“Iskra, listen to me,” he said gently. “Right now, there is a rift between you and the boss. You going to him and giving him the inoculation will give a chance for you two to heal it. If anyone else gives it to him, that rift is going to come along with us on the mission, and that is one thing that cannot accompany us. If it does come along, it lessens the chance of success for everyone.”
He held out the inoculations back to her. “It has to be you,” he said.
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Post by Maelstrom on Aug 19, 2014 0:57:02 GMT -6
Maelstrom gritted his teeth as he finished going over his last gun. There was still no one assembling for the meeting. He suppressed the urge to unload a full thermal clip into the walls, just to activate the ship's alarms. The urge to accomplish the same by using a grenade to scatter several crates all over the cargo bay was more difficult to dismiss. There were easier ways of doing that, like having Emily "accidentally" trip one of the more obvious security protocols in the Valiant's computer.
He looked at the chonometer. People were actually late now. Not just late by merit of not being early. Actually, based on the time, late.
"Emily, check my chronometer for discrepancies," Maelstrom ordered, deactivating his helmet's speaker.
"Chronometer accuracy confirmed to within one point two one milliseconds," his VI responded.
Maelstrom uttered several curses inside the headset.
The hatch to the shuttle opened behind him, both asari standing there.
"We're done," Enaya reported. "Wasn't the team supposed to gather for a briefing?"
Activating his speaker, Maelstrom asked, "Do you think it would be terribly unhealthy for me to have Emily simulate the sound of several direct hits to the Valiant's hull, including inner hull breach? Maybe pipe it through the ship's loudspeakers?"
"Vengeance's or Valiant's?" Enaya asked.
"Yes, very," Anelya replied.
"Think I should do it anyway?" Maelstrom asked, no longer trying to hid his frustration.
Enaya bit her lower lip playfully, an expectant twinkle in her eyes.
"No, you shouldn't," Anelya said.
Enaya put on an overly-exaggerated pouting expression, while Maelstrom just huffed and turned away from the shuttle.
"Better than my first idea," Maelstrom grumbled.
"Which was?" Anelya asked.
"Actually causing an inner-hull breach..."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2014 1:08:37 GMT -6
Iskra's sunset eyes fell into cold night the longer Joe spoke to her, her heart walling him off. He was doing the same thing...talking to her like a child. Esteban and now him, her thoughts went back to her homeworld. She regretted leaving the sad, lost souls that wandered the planet who saw her as nothing but one of them.
The young doctor's face might as well been made of stone as she took one of the tubes from the man's hands, refusing to acknowledge anything he said. She then turned to Eric, her voice smooth, but tracing a knife's edge, "Eric, please go give Mr. Bridges his inoculation. I believe you need to retrieve Maelstrom from the cargo bay to meet with Esteban regarding the plan for hitting the base. Please let me know the decision you come to about me being on the mission."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Aug 19, 2014 5:17:34 GMT -6
"...Please let me know the decision you come to about me being on the mission."
*****
Joe whirled, hurled the tube against the wall, and then glared at her. "Why should I bother with that now?" he asked, his tone sharp enough to slice through a krogan's hide. "Since you decided your feelings are more important than the mission, there's no point in bothering."
He strode out of the medbay.
*****
He closed his hand around the tube. "Okay," he said.
His eyes flicked over to Lysander and gave the briefest of nods towards the outside, then left.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Aug 19, 2014 9:07:26 GMT -6
"Eric, please go give Mr. Bridges his inoculation. I believe you need to retrieve Maelstrom from the cargo bay to meet with Esteban regarding the plan for hitting the base. Please let me know the decision you come to about me being on the mission.” Joe dipped his head slightly at Eric, indicating the door after speaking his peace to Iskra, before walking out. The N7 hesitated for a moment, then nodded and took the tube from her hand.
“… fine…”
He checked his suit chronometer; everyone in the room was running late.
“Good Christ! We all better get movin’. If we don’t have our shit together for this mission we’re all gonna end up lab rats for the Collectors!” Eric left the medbay and went up to Joe who was standing off to one side of the command level.
“You look like a man with somethin’ to say,” he prompted. “What is it?”
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Post by Joe Fischer on Aug 19, 2014 13:42:43 GMT -6
"What is it?" Lysander asked.
"Do you ever miss your N7 days?" Joe asked rhetorically. "When I was in, the biggest issue was the team members fighting over whose job was most important. But once the mission started, all that went away. Everyone was professional, focused on getting the job done and everybody coming back alive."
He looked over at the medbay. "If we survived the mission, I was going to ask her if I could help her with her work," he said. "Certainly inflicted a lot of death and destruction over my career, I thought it would be a nice change of pace to build something."
He took a deep breath, let it out and looked over at the senior N7 with his usual grin. "Don't worry about me, old man," he said. "I'm a professional, you'll get my 'A' game. Now hurry up to that meeting with the boss."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Aug 19, 2014 14:27:49 GMT -6
"If we survived the mission, I was going to ask her if I could help her with her work," Joe said. "Certainly inflicted a lot of death and destruction over my career, I thought it would be a nice change of pace to build something." His statement reminded Eric of Shala’Bekk Vas Neema, his giving her his compressed eezo bomb and its schematics while making a much similar statement. Her technical skill coupled with her compassion and drive to help her people should help her make more constructive use of the device. Eric wondered what became of her since they parted ways. They still owed each other stories about their respective galactic hero friends after all.
“I know what you mean,” was the only comment the senior N7 offered.
The junior warrior exhaled and grinned. "Don't worry about me, old man," he said. "I'm a professional, you'll get my 'A' game. Now hurry up to that meeting with the boss."
Eric brought up his omni-tool. “Yeah. Gotta shoot a quick message to Maelstrom. Run along – I’ll catch up.”
He typed up a quick email informing his friend that their employer wanted to meet up with them to discuss matters. Before he hit Send a stray thought intruded, an answer to Joe’s question about his old outfit.
The times spent with Shepard. Do I miss my N7 days…? More than you know, kid…
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Post by Morgan Bryn on Aug 19, 2014 15:35:01 GMT -6
Morgan was hoping to open up dialogue with Joe regarding the situation, but he brushed aside her comments with barely a reply, quickly moving on to state his own frustrations over the situation.
"I don't know about that. What I do know is that Iskra called him an idiot in front of the team. Not too many COs just take that and not come down like a ton of bricks."
Morgan made a face. She'd suspected Joe was ex-military based on the way he carried himself. Now she knew for sure. If Morgan hazarded a guess, she'd have pegged him for not being out of the military for long. He didn't seem well-adjusted to natural chaos of life outside the military. The poor guy was grasping at straws. Clinging to the old ways, desperate to keep some sort of semblance of militaristic order in his suddenly chaotic life.
For one, he'd referred to Bridges as the CO... which Bridges himself had said wasn't the case. Morgan had made a point to ask the man if he had a title, and it was clear he did not. Hell, he'd indicated Eric was more in charge of the mission itself, if anything.
Eric also struck her as ex-military, though the older man seemed better adjusted. At the very least he was offering constructive criticisms and weighing both sides of the situation instead of blindly following the lead of the boss. Moreso, he was treating the Drell with respect and seemed to understand that not everyone on this ship was an ex-soldier. That earned him a point in his favor, as far as Morgan was concerned. He could think for himself, which would be invaluable on a mission with so many unknowns. Either that meant he'd been out of the military longer than Joe, or he'd simply lead his own team more often than not.
Then there was Joe's remark about Iskra calling Bridges an idiot. Morgan shook her head and turned away, walking several paces away from the others. Now Joe was the one taking this too personal. Iskra hadn't said Bridges was a fool, she'd merely said the idea of her being in charge of a team was idiotic. Even the smartest person could say idiotic things from time to time. Was it tactful? No, but life wasn't tactful, and sometimes frustration and stress got the better of the best of them.
The thief chewed her lip, it wasn't her place to butt into the situation. Joe wanted... no, was practically ordering... Iskra to speak to Bridges.
And they thought me asking if she wanted to talk was gonna be a problem...?
Morgan was mildly surprised every syringe, scalpel, and otherwise sharp pointy object in the medbay hadn't been biotically lifted to aim squarely at Joe by that point, but Iskra's anger had abated substantially. Nevertheless, it was quite clear from Iskra's tone that she had absolutely no intention of doing what Joe had recommended. When she gave Eric the vial instead, neither man seemed happy about it, but the argument was at least, thankfully, over. The medbay had been unlocked and the two soldiers filed out together.
The small human leaned up against one of the exam tables with her arms folded across her chest and observed the Drell, unsure how the other woman might respond to her at this point.
"I meant what I said, by the way," Morgan began quietly after a long moment, keeping an eye on the biotic. "I can help you look for the data if they don't take you with them. We can even set up an encrypted line of communication between us so you can advise me on the fly, if you want. The others don't have to know..." Morgan left the statement hanging, hoping the Drell would put her trust into her, but also ready to bolt from the medbay at a moment's notice should the need arise.
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Post by dargene on Aug 19, 2014 16:15:22 GMT -6
Meldom Entered the Medbay oblivious to what had happened moments ago, opening the door and walking in while reading a message on his Omni-Tool he sat up on one of the medbay beds still reading. His eyes narrowed after a while, obviously not happy with the information he was reading he let out a brief sigh before spending another few moments typing a reply and sending it.
Lowering his omnitool the Orange faded to nothing as he looked up at those in the Medbay "So everyone else get their shots yet ?" he asked normally "Sorry it took so long to come up.. was.. occupied" He nodded at his own words almost as if to convince himself at what he was saying.
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Post by Malik Torsin on Aug 19, 2014 20:39:13 GMT -6
Several Days ago:
To any of the countless passers-by, Malik Torsin looked like any other C-SEC officer waiting around for the need to keep the peace, absently looking out the window of his skycar as the rest of the Citadel went about his business, the background chatter of the internal wireless squawking in the background. None of it was real, however-the uniform procured from a prop company, the car a civilian model hastily modified and painted, even his identity, chosen only to give the rest of the universe something to call him, as his real identity, as far as anybody else was concerned, spent its days as an actual C-SEC officer, albeit one manning a desk that was always in another building.
Shifting uncomfortably, and reminding himself not to use that particular tailor again, Malik watched the entrance of the nearby club, waiting for his target, as he had for the last three hours. Aldir Passik, the soon-to-be unfortunate target, had been inside all evening, no doubt indulging in the finest debauchery that a particularly despicable member of the Citadel's criminal underworld could partake in. Unfortunately, being the kind of person who scumbags would call a scumbag tended to attract negative attention-hence why he, someone paid quite handsomely to make sure that Aldir never made it home, was here.
After what seemed like an eternity, Passik stumbled out of the club, walking just straight enough to suggest all his mental faculties were there, a small blessing for Malik-drunk and drugged targets were too unpredictable, they tended to complicate things.
Malik watched for a moment as Passik set off into traffic, following him a few moments later. He was careful to avoid cutting too close-but the tracking device planted on his car removed the necessity for proximity, the small becon beaming Aldir's location back to him as he paralleled his route a block over and a few levels up. His trajectory suggested he was headed home, meaning that he'd shortly pass through a quiet manufacturing complex-the perfect place to make his move.
Right on cue, Aldir turned past the complex, and Malik gunned the engine to catch up, flashing the skycar's lights as he approach. After a few seconds, Passik pulled off into a darkened landing platform, Malik setting down a carlength behind. Popping the canopy, he approached the car, datapad in one hand and hand disarmingly but cautiously resting on top of the C-SEC-issue Predator on his hip.
Knocking on the window, he leaned in as it opened, a hand offering a credit chit appearing even before the driver.
'There a problem, officer?' the Turian inside asked absently, barely even acknowledging Malik's presence. He took the chit and pocketed it-it'd take some effort to launder, but, hey, a credit was a credit-then leaned back in.
'Credentials, please.', he asked politely. Even though he was almost completely sure the right man was in front of him, he had to make sure-gunning down an innocent man made him no better than any of his targets. Plus, he had to at least make an effort for everything to look normal, in case anybody was inclined to watch.
Clearly unaccustomed to traffic stops taking this direction, Aldir turned to look at him finally, muttering something derogatory about the barefaced 'officer' ruining his night. 'What, did the toll go up?' he drawled angrily. 'Do you have any idea who I am?'
'No.', Malik replied with a forced politeness. 'That's why I'm asking.' The two stared silently for a moment, before his attention was drawn to the sound of a trio of skycars approaching behind him. He turned to look over his shoulder for a second, desperately hoping Aldir wouldn't take the opportunity to bolt-a chase wasn't something he was in the mood for. But as soon as he turned, a floodlight lit up, blinding both of them as the two other skycars moved to box them in.
Spirit, he mused angrily, that bastard sent two teams! It wasn't the first time someone else had met him at a target, but dammed if he was going to share-or lose-the bounty on Aldir's head. Hopefully these were the sorts that wouldn't gun down a C-SEC officer in plain sight-more the type that would at least pay him to leave quietly, at least.
'This is C-SEC business;' he called out towards the light, 'please leave immediately!'
There was only a second's pause before he felt something thump into his shoulder. He instinctively reached up to grab it, pulling away a small dart as his vision began to swim. The last thing he saw before everything faded were masked mercenaries descending on the two of them.
Present Day:
Malik woke, unsurprisingly, in a cell, alone. Groggily dragging himself to his feet, still dressed in the fake uniform, he leaned against the bars of the cell, looking around. And, as if the universe was laughing at him he was greeted with a glare from Aldir, occupying the cell across from him.
'You got me captured, bareface.', he growled accusingly.
Malik rolled his eyes, looking around the cellblock. He could see cells occupying the rest of the hallway, a hexagon-shaped door at the end of the hallway. The cells looked empty, but he could hear the sounds of life coming from them-not happy life, though, judging by the groans and sobs.
'Sorry.', he replied sarcastically. 'By who?'
'Collectors.'
Malik studied him quizzically for a moment, looking for a trace of humour or sarcasm, but finding none.
'You're serious?' he asked, already knowing the answer. He sighed, exasperatedly, then continued. 'Why?'
'How should I know? What do I look like, their liason?', Aldir spat back. 'All I know is, they come in every so often, and haul some poor bastard off. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they don't.'
The two sat in silence for a moment, before Aldir continued.
'I'm going to kill you when we get out of here.'
Not if I get to you first, Malik thought. 'Good luck with that;', he replied absently, looking around for anything he could do to escape-after all, it was better than just waiting for the Collectors to come back.
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Aug 19, 2014 21:47:02 GMT -6
Esteban paced back and forth by the kitchen table of the upper level, occasionally pausing to look at the stairs to see if Maelstrom or Lysander were coming. It was a pointless exercise. Data would alert him well before they were in visual range. But still...
Esteban spent the past few minutes reviewing all the notes that were available on the Seeker Swarms. What surprised him more than anything was the lack of information. Many reports claimed the Seekers were technologically based. But what did that mean? Bio-engineering? Were they machines? He sighed, rubbing his forehead. Too many possibilities. It made it impossible to plan anything. He was not worried. Not exactly. The engineering process takes time. Esteban understood that. He just needed a few more minutes to really think of something.
And what was keeping Lysander?
He stopped and activated his omnitool and typed out a quick message.
Eric
I requested you grab Maelstrom and join me on the upper level approximately five minutes ago. It is imperative you come up here so the plans can be finalized before they are officially presented.
Esteban
He frowned, re-reading the message to make sure it communicated the right amount of impatience. Not too much, but enough for the underlying tone to come across.
After a second or two, he hit send.. then continued to pace.. thinking.
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Post by Maelstrom on Aug 19, 2014 23:39:48 GMT -6
Maelstrom got the message from Lysander, asking to meet Bridges in the upper level. From what he could tell, it was just meant to be the three of them. He cursed through grinding teeth, and he felt as though his gaze could have burned a hole through the face-plate of his helmet. Something was very wrong, and he did not care for drama before a mission. It made things dangerous.
Turning back to the two asari, still lounging in the doorway, Maelstrom said, "Remember how I told you the crew was relatively trustworthy?"
"Yes," the twins said in unison.
"Well, if anyone tries to get in my ship while I'm gone, shoot them," Maelstrom said before storming off.
"I don't feel comfortable with that!" Anelya called, as Enaya was laughing.
"Then get in the cockpit and let Emily take care of it for you!" he called, typing in the commands to his omni-tool that heightened his ship's security nearly to its top level. A few more commands revoked the security exemptions for everyone but the two asari. Not even Iskra or Lysander would be able to approach now without receiving a warning. If they did not heed it... well... he hoped Iskra would not be the person to test their limits. Someone would need to patch up the offending party.
As he took the ship's corridors in long strides, he drew his SMG. If someone was going to be late, the least they could manage was a comm signal. It was common courtesy. For him not to have received anything more than Lysander's brief message meant that something was seriously wrong. With discipline, he kept himself from drawing a grenade as well.
When he turned the corner to find Bridges pacing, he could not hold his tongue. "What the HELL is happening on this ship?!"
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Post by Eric Lysander on Aug 20, 2014 8:13:55 GMT -6
As Eric was about to clear the stairwell to the upper level, he heard Maelstrom cry out "What the HELL is happening on this ship?!" The man in silver armor walked in on Esteban who had stopped pacing in front of the man in Collector armor, the latter tensing and trying to keep himself in check. Eric took a breath and stepped into the line of fire. The mission was at hand and this gathering of mercenaries was far less cohesive than the first. That needed to be corrected immediately.
“Sorry I’m late,” interjected Eric. “Slight hitch with my inoculation but it’s been cleared up now...” He addressed his employer, handing over the tube provided by Iskra. “If you ask me I’d say this ship has too many elephants on deck and it’s startin’ to affect the balance here. At the risk of gettin’ dressed down myself, what made you guys decide on Iskra for the rescue team lead? She’s a good shot and her medical skills can help the prisoners at the base but… she sure sounded like she never had a command before… and never wants to have one.”
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