|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 3, 2015 16:00:15 GMT -6
Shala frowned as she read Maelstrom’s ambivalent reply. His natural caution wanted him to avoid any further contact with them, but he also acknowledged he owed Theraxos.
She looked over at the turian, who was watching the crowds, looking for any signs of trouble. Just a couple of hours ago, he put his career on the line to help someone he barely knew, mostly out of his affection for her.
She was inclined to agree with Maelstrom’s caution; whoever had framed him had seemed very capable, and any further contact could draw their attention.
But would Theraxos see it that way? she wondered.
She brought up her omnitool and typed a reply.
Maelstrom I agree that we should avoid contact, but I think it is important for Theraxos (the C-Sec officer) to meet you. He risked a great deal to help you, and I think some acknowledgment of it from you might help him. Out of respect for your cautious nature, I leave it to you to decide the time and place.
Shala
*****
Moments after she sent her reply, her omnitool informed her of an incoming message.
Keelah, she thought as she read the message. She may no longer be part of Captain Bridges’ crew, but it seemed it would not let her go.
Eric Lysander It is good to hear from you again, even if it is not under the best of circumstances. Regretfully I am quite busy at the moment, so I cannot come visit you, but please contact me once you are released; it would be nice to meet another crewmate.
Shala’Bekk
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 3, 2015 17:32:26 GMT -6
Maelstrom I agree that we should avoid contact, but I think it is important for Theraxos (the C-Sec officer) to meet you. He risked a great deal to help you, and I think some acknowledgment of it from you might help him. Out of respect for your cautious nature, I leave it to you to decide the time and place.
Shala
Maelstrom nodded as he read his letter, displayed on a holographic display in the center of his cockpit. He was pleased that she at least understood his concerns. It would make it easier for him to suggest somewhere absurdly, but safely, out-of-the-way. He rarely met with people on the Citadel, but there were a few times his travels took him there. Obviously, he could not use any of the previous locations, but they could inspire him with ideas.
"Emily, bring up a schematic of the Zakera Ward, factory district, section 32," Maelstrom commanded. As Emily processed his request, he added, "Be sure to use the most recent data released from the Citadel Corps of Engineers. I need to know what's been repaired by the keepers and what hasn't."
The area had been one of the hardest hit in the ward during Sovereign's attack. Massive sections were left inoperable, even unable to support life. The Corps of Engineers had left the initial cleanup work to the keepers, and life support was restored throughout, but massive swaths of it were still off-limits to civilians, being labeled as too dangerous. Due to power fluctuations, the heavy equipment in some areas operated on its own, often erratically. As the Corps was unable to shut it down as a district, they left those systems as well to the keepers' purview.
"Displaying now," she announced, bringing up the three-dimensional map. "This map is time-stamped as three days ago."
Maelstrom mulled over the map, focusing in on specific sections. Between an expert quarian engineer and a member of C-Sec, who empowered their officers to enter the area at their judgement to pursue suspects or leads from the vagrants in the area, they would not only be able to enter it legally but safely as well. Then he saw it, the perfect spot.
The building was several stories tall, and it had been deemed structurally sound according to the most recent drone flyby. One whole facing of the building had been demolished, though, as a massive piece of reaper debris crashed down in the middle of the area. Logs showed it had been removed months back, so no worry of encountering scavengers.
Maelstrom considered it for a moment longer. The area would be in vacuum, forcing them to keep their helmets on and limiting their ability to read each others' expressions. On the other hand, it also made it harder for someone to follow them without being noticed, particularly without foreknowledge of their destination.
A section on the tenth floor seemed ideal, and he zoomed in further. The Vengeance would be able to hover just outside the building and be hidden from almost every angle to any outside observers. There were also several nearby passages which could serve as alternate means of escape for himself or the others.
Maelstrom called up a few commands, indicating the exact spot and attaching it to the message he brought up.
Shala'Bekk vas Neema,
I think this spot, while difficult to reach, would be ideal. It's private, and Emily's sensors should be able to let us know if there's any interference or surveillance. Let me know if this would be agreeable. If so, I'd suggest we meet at 1900 hours. I look forward to seeing you again.
Sincerely, Maelstrom
|
|
|
Post by dargene on Apr 5, 2015 12:40:15 GMT -6
Meldom was fiddling with his Omnitool while the doctor looked through the window at him, In the corner of the eye Meldom saw this but paid him no notice. "Think they know you are here, or they blaming it on a ghost" he said with a little smirk. A voice spoke in a low voice as not to alert anyone "If I don't watch you, you might end up near death again" Meldom turned to look out the window overlooking the citadel as to not arouse suspicion "Bad habit, it likes me" he said with a slight chuckle "They said they can figure something out so it probably won't be the.."
The doctor walked in as Meldom paused and finished his sentence with a cough "Well ?" Meldom asked nonchalantly "You figured out how to get these things out, or is it still too much for you to handle". It had been almost a week of sitting in the bed, tests, scans and samples and Meldom was fed up. "We have a theory that could work, it involves implanting several metal composite rods into your body, then using a controlled voltage a massive electrostatic discharge through them for a period of time, then filter your blood through a machine our hope is that it will fry whatever wires that the tiny bugger's run on but.." The doctor paused "Well I won't lie, it will be painful, long and probably extremely dangerous, Salarians are not use to such an amount of electricity, hell I think it would even stun a krogan. As a result it may.." The doctor trailed off.
Meldom stared at the wall and nodded "Can piece together risks, had worse odds before.." He looked at the chair and nodded slightly "Do it"
Almost a hour later Meldom was ready for the procedure, the doctor gave him some anesthetic to dull the pain but needed a nailgun like machine punctured Meldoms skin several times, 4 in each arm, each leg and several on the torso all around. Meldom winced in pain at the intrusion, it felt like being shot but without the blood loss. "Now" the doctor said "Remember this is highly experimental, we can monitor the level of activity inside you to see when they are all dead so we can stop. However if it looks too much im pulling the plug".
The doctor nodded at two nurses and another doctor who had come to assist, attaching wires to each metal rod and strapping Meldoms arms and legs down they took a step back ready to assist if things went wrong. The head doctors hand loomed over a red button. "Ready ?" he said solemnly Meldom stared at him and managed a slight headnod "Always a red button.." He said close to a whisper" The doctor managed a weak smile as he hit the button.
The doctor Hit the button. At once the cables jumped alive with electricity making Meldom Thrust his body as far as the restraints would allow, squirming and flailing. The hum of electricity was constant. Meldom felt pain, even with the anesthetic it felt like his whole body was on fire and being ripped apart, He let out a growl while clenching his teeth trying to desperately think of something else but it was no use. "Foreign metals at 90 percent" The doctor called out "its working!" there was almost relief in his voice. Meldom spasmed finding it hard to speak "Go..Guh.G.." Was all he good manage.
Several agonizing minutes passed for Meldom, the electricity felt like it was doing more harm then good, the burning turned to a full body unpleasant tingle while he thrashed about, unable to feel anything. He let out several screams of pain unable to hold it in any longer, he Started to foam at the mouth as his eyes rolled backwards. The heart monitor started to go even more erratic. The doctor saw this and shouted to the others "Im pulling the plug!" As he was about to stop Meldom managed a word "N..No" he said launching foam and spit.
The doctor waited a little while longer for the number to reach zero then hit the kill switch and the room fell quiet for a brief moment before the heart monitor let out a long shrill beep
"Crash cart now, we need to slow his heart rate" He yelled but the nurses were already setting up the required machine and had placed the required pads on his chest. The doctor grabbed the paddles and placed them on the pads "Charging...Clear!" He yelled shocking Meldom making him lurch upward, the heartbeat monitor still remained the same, "Again!" he said "Charging..Clear!".
The monitor let out a familiar beep and started to go back to a normal Salarian heartbeat range. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief "Nurse, activate the blood filter" he looked at the other doctor "Lets get the rods out of him".
Several hours later Meldoms eyes fluttered open, everything was a haze and dark, looking up his lights and window were set to night mode and his body still felt numb, he tried to move his arm but it just flailed upwards and hit him on the chest making him cough with pain, he let out a grunt and mumbled to himself "Least.. Can move" he struggled to say. The voice that was on the chair spoke again "You died.." It said softly. "The machine stopped registering your heart rate, your eyes.." It stopped for a moment and Meldom finally managed to fumble with the button that raised his bed upwards to a sitting position. "Machines lie" he said with a monotone voice "Im..Fine.." A Small sound was heard as someone uncloaked from the stealth mode. "For now" Meldom said looking at Shroud "You stayed, you could have taken a break or left, would understand".
Shroud Looked at Meldom like he was stupid "Last time I left you this happened, as far as im concerned you need me to look after you in between our scores or you end up dead.. And that would suck as I need my partner in crime" she smiled. Meldom also smiled "Well let me know if anyone tries to kill me, just leave their body on the floor and it will get cleaned up by the nurses im sure" he attempted a laugh but it ended up as a cough "A day or two of rest I think. Then there is more work to be done.." He said trailing off as he fell asleep. Shroud nodded and looked at him sadly, lowering the bed and returning to her seat she engaged her cloak to watch over him.
|
|
|
Post by Weyrloc Karn on Apr 7, 2015 10:18:04 GMT -6
The flashy neon glow of the lower wards coated the metal floors, the masses of crowds of aliens alike, meandering through the narrow streets down the wards many districts. Further down in the usual depths of the citadel wards, the entertainment district would be booming with the usual masses of murkier elements, from drug dealing kings, to the sleazy conmen looking for their next victim to swindle. Drunk patrons, patrons with specific 'desires', many a different person wandering around the district with numerous things in mind. As usual, it seemed like a common day for the lower wards. Between the streets and numerous clubs, bars and hideouts for the dirty kinds of people, stood a specifically... Unique, building. Classified as a 'gentleman's club', most likely a club for sexual favours, starts off the end of the night for a specific guest at this establishment. A while from his usual upkeep with jobs, bouncing and beating a few problems with his fists, a half-drunk mess of a krogan lumbers from the club, cigar in hand, laughter from his big scaled lips. Given the asari between his arms, someone was having a lot of fun tonight! A few pats on the rear, and off they went, back to serve whatever patrons they could. Clearly, the krogan had spent his funds wisely, as any man of his stature would!
Moving onwards towards his destination, the conversation prior to his exit loomed within his mind, almost hauntingly;
--------------
"Need you to consider the job, Karn, I ain't got anyone else to go to with this...", muttered the rather well dressed batarian.
It seemed like this was the owner of said establishment, a rough looking, yet masculine alien running a rather... Well placed establishment. An asari consort would seem more out of place in the wards than a stripper house, that was a given fact, so maybe the sight of a batarian in a suit wasn't so hard to believe.
"Ya' got more guys than sense, th' fuck do you need me for? I just watch yer' door from time to time, ain't much I can do for this.", the krogan responds, a set of women in his arms.
"Man, you need to understand me here, when I say I ain't got anyone else, I mean, no one else! Just do this for me, will ya'?", the batarian would plead, almost close to bowing.
This job seemed somewhat odd, even for a krogan. "Deliver this to this guy", was the request. Why the hell do you ask a krogan to be a delivery boy? If it was a delivery of fists to faces, then that's easy to oblige. Though he did spoil himself with the luxuries of the evening, Karn mulled it over. Maybe getting out earlier would've been best, no one would be too fond of ending up drunk down in the wards, let alone around C-Sec...
"A'ight, a'ight! Th' hell you want me to do, anyway?", the krogan grunted out, reluctantly.
"Fuckin' finally! I was losin' hope here... Listen, you just take that shit, and get it over to this guy. Take my car, I can get it later, a'ight?", the batarian responds, somewhat relieved to the krogans choice.
The batarian scooted over a metal lockbox, it's contents still a mystery to the krogan, even now. He took the box into his big hands, before standing himself up. The asari soon sigh out, their favourite customer having to leave so soon crushed their little hearts!
"If yer' not payin' me, just lower my tab for a couple months, yeah? Then we're even!", he laughs out, the krogan patting his chest with a smile upon his face.
"Uugh.. Fine, fine! You better pay that damn thing...", the batarian mutters out, before standing himself up. "Now, hurry it along. I ain't got all week to keep hanging onto this!", he soon states as he pushes the krogan along. "Quickly, let's not stand around!", he retorts, causing a small laugh from the krogan as he soon makes departure.
--------------
The skycar sat around the back of the club, set upon a landing zone of sorts. Dangling from the side of the building, even, underneath the sharp chasm below. The krogan wasn't so afraid of the height, more so the fear of falling on his ass all the way down... He sets his hand upon the car door, it unlocking with the code on his omni-tool. Settling the box on the rear seat, Karn hops off inside the car, shutting the door behind him as he does. Starting the engine was easy, the low roar of the engine as it softly rumbles into ignition, the holo-board across the dash glowing up nicely, illuminating the cab under a dim, orange light. Checking through the datapad given to him on the way out, the krogan sets in the coordinates to his now apparent destination. Once set, the car soon made it's way up, before moving forwards slowly and once in the right lane, the car soon makes it's way along it's intended path. For a while, everything seemed mostly normal. The krogan lacked much to do at the time, and much of his doubt towards finding any decent jobs slowly faded from his mind, his desire to get this damn favour done quickly was all that really mattered right then and there, to get out of the Citadel sooner, rather than later. Getting harassed by the officers wasn't something he was too happy to put up with, his name a noted target for most of them around. Maybe he annoyed the wrong asari's back in his day, maybe he slept with too many to get some favours he probably won't be able to repay so easily... Regardless, his mind simply wandered as he waited.
His daydreams would soon be disrupted by a certain problem.
The engine soon blew. A large hole filled the front, flames extruding from the battered engine. Someone had sabotaged the batarians car rather easily, almost as if it was set up in this way. Regardless if it was for him, or his so called 'boss', he wasn't hovering much longer. If death was waiting for him, he would make his debut in hell rather soon... The car dives down, crashing into floors and windows, breaking through countless floors in under a few seconds. It seemed like it was the end for himself, life flashing before his eyes constantly on the way down... Before it finally hit him, or, he hit it. The skycar smashed into a rather convenient sign, before slamming into the ground below. The krogan is thrown out by the sheer force, slamming battered into the ground, now broken and bleeding. It knocked him clean out, almost so easily to be expected out of any krogan like himself! Not anyone can survive an intense car crash, at least not at this kind of level. It appeared luck had smiled upon him again, though reluctantly so.
Several hours later, the krogan would awake. Albeit, in a pool of blood and a stinging sensation in his right arm. The poor bastard broke his arm, and a few dozen ribs. Along with the lacerations and internal bleeding, the krogan would be an absolute mess... He shoves himself up with a pained grunt, before slumping against a nearby wall. The orange streak of blood follows along with his every movement, smearing along the dull metal as he grunts in pained tones, dragging himself along the hallway. He wasn't lying around for C-Sec to find him, it was too dangerous, too drastic. He'd be in a cell for years, given the fact he's smashed up enough properties, and god knows if he killed anyone or not on the way down. Manslaughter, and damages were common krogan crimes. He wasn't going to be pinned down to one of them, not with his record... Prison was fun once, but it's not something he's going back to again.
His only option, was the doctor. A local name in the lower wards, an enigma to the police forces above. A salarian with a great deal of medical skills, apparently one of the few medical experts to give a shit about the criminal underworld. An alien to approach when the public medical hospice wasn't the best place to go. For a fee, you'd be saved from the slow death you may be approaching. The krogan had his run-ins with him, and reluctantly needed his assistance again. The krogan slides along, disappearing into the distance. He had less time than normal and a krogan isn't full of blood once it keeps leaking out. Regeneration or not, this kind of damage would take a lot longer to fix...
Whatever damage he would cause afterwards, was more of a worry in his mind.
"He's so dead..", the krogan would grumble...
((Posted with GM permission!))
|
|
Octis Kurius
N1
"Don't like it? Cry to your lawyer about it..."
Posts: 5
|
Post by Octis Kurius on Apr 7, 2015 16:19:29 GMT -6
The low sound of a siren looms around the devastated area. Debris, chunks of metal and glass cover the area, the streets littered with shards of a deadly crash. The skycar was lodged into the metallic floor, the front of the vehicle neatly wedged against the floor, the underside of the car lodged between the bent plates. Smoke radiated from the engine, slowly lifting into the air as the smouldering ruins of the engine remain alight. A lone, C-Sec branded cruiser would be set to the side of the road, beside a roll of holographic projectors, the illuminated row of lights detail an area of caution, "C-SEC INVESTIGATION" written across the row holographic barriers within different alien languages. Along the row of lights, barriers and siren, stood a patrolman. The unlucky turian found himself stuck waiting on backup, most likely a forensics and investigative team to come along. The car had already taken out several apartments, with the unfortunate circumstance of a few wounded on the scene. Most had avoided a brutal death, some with small cuts and bruises, the rest shocked and in need of comfort. The ambulances stand by idly, their lights flaring wildly in the distance. Before long, another cruiser pulls up, before the door pops open slowly, a firm boot setting down on the floor below. A pipe had burst along the way down, water gently rolling down the streets idly. Another turian would step out from the vehicle, shutting the door behind him as he trods through the damp street across to the patrolman, soon to flash his badge.
"Detective Kurius, narcotics detective..", the turian states bluntly, before lowering his badge. "The hell happened here?", he questions.
The patrolman gives him a look over, before shaking his head. "Not a clue, detective. Scene was pretty much the same way I left it, forensics haven't even got here yet... I'm waiting on them before I allow anyone in. I don't think you'd have interest in a car crash, detective...", he states.
Octis squints his eyes with annoyance, before rubbing his crest. He lowers his hand as he glances over the patrolmans shoulder. "I'm the only officer nearby the scene... And unless you have a better reason to block me from investigating what the fuck just happened here, I'd suggest letting me past. Do you want to stand here for the next hour listening to salarians yap in your ear over shit you really, really do not care about?", the detective would argue, knowing that annoyance first hand, in plenty of cases.
The patrolman exhales, before rubbing at the back of his neck. "Listen, I don't want them going on at me because I let you mess around with a crime scene. I'm not getting fired because you can't keep your damn hands off the evidence...", the patrolman sighs out, annoyance in his tone.
"I'm not touching anything unless I have to. Listen, you don't know if this was a drug related crash, or an overdose related incident. Just let me in the damn place and you won't have to say a damn thing about it. You're not getting fired if you had no involvement with me, got it?", the turian grunts out, becoming more annoyed with the conversation. Standing around whilst evidence washes away wasn't his favourite thing in the world. "Do you want to be here when they whine about evidence, that's on you. I can deal with some yapping lizards for the hour..."
The patrolman gives out a defeated sigh, before standing to the side. "Jeez, fine... Spirits sake, just get on with it! Do what you want, it's on you...", he groans out. "I don't get paid enough for this.", he would grumble out as he steps off to the side, heading back to his patrol car to try and radio in yet again. Octis gives a smirk, his persuasion working well. With that however, he soon steps onto the scene.
--------------------
"Damages to vehicle seem vicious... Broken doors, dislodged front...", he would ponder, the detectives mind working like a machine on solutions.
The detective moves by the black vehicle, his eyes inspecting it's crushed details. It seemed too deliberate, too drastic. If this was a cause of a drug related offence, it'd either be an overdose at the wheel, or flat out murder. Both of these outcomes were too common, as he'd expect such a reaction from the driver. His instincts were too sharp, however, his eyes soon noticing the large, widened hole on the engine cover of the vehicle. The bent hole seemed to be from an explosive, a deliberate sabotage from something rather.. Destructive. He moves to inspect the area, glancing about at first. He didn't want to have anyone snooping on him messing with potential evidence, that would be far too out of his bounds. Or so he convinced himself to believe... He sets his hand into the engine hole, the flames surprisingly dimming down over time, giving him extra time to investigate what caused this problem. Before long however, he finds something lodged inside the engines remains. He soon pulls out what appears to be a thermal detonation device, something pretty close to a demolition team explosive, but only a singular device. The hardened metal would still be intact, yet burnt quite badly, indicating whatever this device did, it ruined a rather high end vehicle. And whoever was driving it, was most likely dead, or worse, mangled in the crash. But he found no victims, no indications they were thrown off the side of the railings. Glancing up, he noticed the damaged sign, the large impact created from the vehicle from it's destructive way down. It seemed too convenient it crashed the way it did, as to look like an accident... He sets the device back into the engine, before moving away, his attention soon shifting to a few meters away from the vehicle.
Brandishing a flashlight from his belt, Octis flicks it on with a press of a switch, the light illuminating the floor. Upon it, was a fading pool of blood, the inconvenience of the burst pipes almost washing it away. The blood was an orange, an indication of a redundant immune system, in the cases of a victim, the turian knew full well he was putting up with a krogan for a crash victim. If they already haven't raged into oblivion and broken anything else afterwards, he'd know they'd be in a lot more worse condition, not even a big lizard could survive this much of a vicious crash. Part of him wondered why he gave any cares for a dead krogan, or even an injured one. But his job was what stood above everything else, besides himself, and he was aiming to get this job finished, krogan problems or not.
"Launched out the windscreens, broke left door on the way out... Landed here, and judging by the trail... They went over there.", he would mutter out, glancing off to the wall on the side. The smear of blood followed along it quite a distance.
The detective would withdraw the heavy pistol from his thigh holster, the folded pistol disconnecting from the magnet of his armor. He holds it between both hands as it unfolds, firmly gripping the handle as he keeps it pointed towards the ground, his thumb gently held against the safety trigger. He moves up closer to the wall, before cautiously moving along it. Whatever he might find on the end of this bloody trail might help him understand what really caused this crime. If it didn't attempt to attack him first, however... As the trail led down the nearby alleyway from the crash scene, and without much hesitation for whatever he might uncover, he moves on along and out of view, further down the gloomy, dark tunnel through the lower wards...
|
|
|
Post by Eric Lysander on Apr 8, 2015 11:14:46 GMT -6
After another week or so of sample collecting, checkups by his doctor and behaving himself more, Eric was finally given clearance to leave the hospital which came as a huge relief to both him and Nurse Weaver. While she processed his exit forms at her desk terminal he apologized to her for all the grief he caused her during his stay, admitting the irony of his trying to keep sane by getting on other peoples nerves. As before, he complimented her on remaining professional and not stooping to his level. Weaver handed over a data card. “We’re all done now,” she said with a gleam in her eye. Eric put the card into his pants pocket and faltered about for something final to say to her other than a “see you around.” He opened up his duffel bag and took out his stuffed N7 dog.
“Lil’ somethin’ to remember me by?” he said, holding it out in front of her.
Gingerly Weaver held the stuffed animal in one hand, not pulling it from Eric’s grip, and smiled sweetly. Her other hand reached for an item on her desk. Locating it, she took it up and then applied it directly to the doll’s groin. A motorized whirr and a loud tap sounded before she removed the device. She placed it back on the desk and folded her arms over the counter.
“Always spay and neuter your pets,” she squinted smugly.
Eric’s earnest look turned to disbelief as he slowly turned the stuffed doll around to better assess the damage. The German Shepard looked sappily at him, almost blaming him, its legs turned inward by the staple.
“That’s… very considerate of you... thank you,” was all Eric could say before he trudged off, solemnly stuffing his doll back into his bag.
Later, while overlooking the lake at the Presidum, Eric fired off an email to Shala requesting a place to meet, hopefully at an eatery if she was no longer in any danger. Even with Cronauer out of the picture, there was still the matter of finding who had ordered hits on Esteban Bridges’ team but another long standing matter was finally put to rest.
It would be very awkward, though, reminiscing with Shala about Shepard, both knowing that at this moment he sat alone in jail awaiting trial.
|
|
|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 9, 2015 7:58:48 GMT -6
As Theraxos walked with Shala to the meeting site, the only thing that amazed him was the level of trust he had in her; if the meet had been with anyone else, he either would have a squad’s worth of backup with him or not even bothered with the meet.
While he still did not trust the human, he did respect the man’s tactical sense; the area he had chosen had been badly damaged in the geth attack two years, so badly damaged the even the keepers had made no effort to repair it, leaving it uninhabitable by even the most daring of people.
It’s her, he thought as he watched Shala lead the way.
Even though he had admitted to himself his feelings for her, he also knew that she did not feel the same way for him. He had realized it when she had told him she had taken her helmet off by choice rather than the human forcing it off as he had initially suspected.
He knew the dangers of a quarian’s exposure to the atmosphere most other races took for granted, and he also knew one did not do such things on a whim; they had to believe that the cause was a worthy one, and the human had been the cause for her.
So why are you here?
Any further thoughts were banished as they made their way over a pile of rubble and the human stood before them, wearing armor and an SMG on his hip.
Over his years on patrol, he had become adept at reading the body language of most races, and the human’s body spoke that he was tense, maybe a bit uneasy, but not hostile.
Because of her, he realized.
He found himself wondering if the human felt the same way about her as she did him.
Doubt it, he thought.
He had seen quite a bit in his time with C-Sec, and he had come to realize that while many people talked about changing their lives, few ever actually did it; it meant stepping out of the safety of their current routine and into the unknown, and that unknown terrified them.
The human might have some feelings for her, but they weren’t enough to make him change his life; until the fear of being without her outweighed his fear for his own safety, they would never be together the way she wanted them to be.
“Hello, Maelstrom,” she said. “This is Theraxos, the C-Sec officer I was telling you about.”
“Hello,” he said, extending his hand.
If he hurts her, I’ll kill him.
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 9, 2015 8:32:18 GMT -6
Maelstrom had been watching all entryways to his position until Shala'Bekk and the C-Sec officer came into view. It had been a relief that the life signs Emily was picking up were indeed the parties he was supposed to meet and not another source of trouble He realized he was being more paranoid than usual, in light of recent events, but he did not particularly care at the moment. In an odd way, exercising such a ridiculous amount of caution put him at ease. It meant that it would be harder for him to be taken by his foes, and that gave him some peace of mind.
That was why his hand was still hovering near his SMG.
"Hello, Maelstrom. This is Theraxos, the C-Sec officer I was telling you about," Shala said, introducing the two.
Maelstrom sized the turian up as much as he was able through the armor and helmet the man wore. The choice of meeting place was necessary but regrettable, as Maelstrom would have much preferred to see the expression on the man's face and the look in his eyes, both of which were obscured by the helmet he wore. Still, the meticulous care taken of the armor and the way it sat on his frame spoke volume about the man.
Though he hated to do so, Maelstrom lowered his hand away from his weapon.
"Hello," Theraxos said, extending his hand.
Though he remained stationary, Maelstrom flinched inwardly at the prospect of shaking the man's hand. He knew that it was not uncommon for C-Sec officers trained in undercover work to use a handshake as a means getting the first half of a set of handcuffs on a suspect. Like many law-enforcement agencies through the galaxy, they were also trained extensively in how to use handcuffs to their favor in hand-to-hand combat and as a means of limiting the effectiveness of biotics by keeping combat at extreme close range. The thought made him want to reach for his gun again.
Maelstrom looked back to Shala. This was important to her for some reason, or she would not have requested a meeting in her message. She had his trust.
Turning back to the C-Sec officer, he offered his hand in return. "It seems I owe you my thanks. I gather that I would have found a lot more trouble coming my way if it weren't for the help you have Shala'Bekk."
|
|
|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 13, 2015 12:32:19 GMT -6
As soon as Shala saw Maelstrom, she saw that his body was rigid with tension; he clearly did not want to be there.
And yet he came anyway…
She looked back at Theraxos, and could see tension in his posture as well. She didn’t blame him, for less than twelve hours ago he thought the human had attacked her; she just hoped he could stay in control of his emotions.
*****
"It seems I owe you my thanks,” Maelstrom said as he shook the turian’s hand, even though he clearly didn’t want to. “I gather that I would have found a lot more trouble coming my way if it weren't for the help you have, Shala'Bekk.”
It’s only because of Theraxos’ feelings for me, she thought. Had it been anyone else, this meeting wouldn’t be happening.
“True, but you should still be careful,” the C-Sec officer said. “I’m told the murder victim was a high-ranking member of your military, some of its members may still come after you.”
“He will be,” she said. “If Cerberus can’t find him, I doubt some angry human soldiers will.”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 13, 2015 14:30:54 GMT -6
“True, but you should still be careful,” Theraxos said. “I’m told the murder victim was a high-ranking member of your military, some of its members may still come after you.”
I wonder if he's just struggling for conversation or if he just doesn't get at all the kind of threat Cerberus poses? Maelstrom wondered.
“He will be,” Shala'Bekk interceded. “If Cerberus can’t find him, I doubt some angry human soldiers will.”
"That's the idea, at least. I've already got a few more ideas for how I should be able to reduce my electronic footprints even more," Maelstrom said. "That, and I'm probably going to be spending more time completely off the grid. I've got a few places in mind."
Turning to speak to Shala specifically, he added, "The communications protocols I gave you earlier should still work for getting in touch with me anyway, and if all else fails, you'll probably be able to reach me through Bridges or, if you're really desperate, the Shadow Broker."
Returning his attention to Theraxos, he said, "What about you, Officer? I think we both know this doesn't end here. You have to live the rest of your life holding your tongue about something or speaking your peace and facing the consequences. Anything you'd like to ask? Anything you need to know before you commit to your course?"
|
|
|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 13, 2015 17:47:04 GMT -6
“I’ve already committed to my course, human,” Theraxos said. “Shala revealed your name to me, and I could have included it in my report, but she convinced me not to. To reveal it now brings my entire service record into question and could undo all that I have done. I am ready to take your name—even if it is an alias—to my grave.
“As for questions, I have one, but I wish to discuss it…in private,” he said, directing the last part at her.
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 13, 2015 20:15:44 GMT -6
Maelstrom did not particularly like the idea of being left alone with the turian. Despite some small sense of indebtedness, he did not trust the man, and he would not have been there were it on the C-Sec officer's request alone. Still, now that he was in the position, he saw little way around it other than potentially harming his relationship with Shala by refusing what seemed a fairly innocent request.
Maelstrom shrugged, looking to his quarian friend, "Your meeting. It's up to you, Shala."
|
|
|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 14, 2015 6:04:30 GMT -6
Even though Shala knew why Maelstrom did what he did, that didn’t make her like it. He didn’t want to speak to Theraxos alone, but he didn’t want to risk his friendship with her by rejecting the turian’s request. So he put it on her, basically forcing her to choose between them.
But he forgot who she was. Quarians were second to none in teamwork; people who hated each other often found themselves working together because of the six all-important words every single one of them knew: For the good of the Fleet.
“I will shut off my audio receptors,” she said to Theraxos, then turned to Maelstrom. “But I will stay within visual range.”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 14, 2015 6:15:03 GMT -6
Maelstrom nodded his acceptance of Shala'Bekk's terms, then turned back to the turian. "So, what do you want to ask?"
|
|
|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 14, 2015 7:58:54 GMT -6
Theraxos looked at her for a moment. He figured she knew the question would be about her, and he did not want her to hear what he was about to say.
Guess I have to trust her, he thought.
He looked back at the human.
“When I visited her in the hospital, my first instinct was that you had attacked her and taken her helmet off by force,” he began. “But she told me she took it off by choice, and that it somehow helped you. I can’t imagine any circumstances which would dictate such an action, but I believe her.
“And then there was the attempt to frame you for that other human’s murder,” he continued. “I believed the video showing you killing him, but she was convinced you were innocent and eventually proved it.
“Taking off her helmet to help you was impressive,” he said. “And then placing herself in the way between C-Sec and you? Even more so.
“I think we both know why she did those things,” he said. “I want to know what you intend to do about it.”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 14, 2015 9:33:13 GMT -6
Maelstrom had been thinking about the turian's question almost without pause since he had arranged everything for the meeting. Though he was certain of his answer, it still felt awkward to say.
"I intend to keep her safe. The best way to do that is to limit my contact with her," Maelstrom replied. "I'm not cutting her out completely. There may even be some times I have work for her to do, if she's willing. As for the rest, though, no matter what feelings she might have, I can't endanger her by allowing such an indulgence."
"Besides, she has a good life here, and I'd say she already has something of a guardian angel watching over her. Or am I wrong?"
|
|
|
Post by Weyrloc Karn on Apr 14, 2015 15:51:26 GMT -6
Rough panting would fill the area as thuds pound the metal floors around the dense number of alleyways and corridors. The darkened streets of a late night lower ward soon became the scene of a desperate attempt at movement, the slow streak of blood coating the wall the krogan had meandered across. Karn was at a lack of options and ways to move, at a lack of blood and sense included. He was slipping out again, his vision blurry and bleak, as if every step inched him closer to an inevitable demise. The only traces of rage locked into his nerves kept him going, the tense adrenaline rushing through his wounded form, battered and bruised from the impact of his prior incident. The krogan could simply stomp whatever strength he had through the cold streets, working of memory to find said location. Not being the first time he's found himself in a wounded state such as his was now, the location of medical assistance down here, simply burnt itself to the back of his brain, even the name of the street itself slapped firmly into his memory. That aside, his mind was swarmed with questions, grasping for what? The desperation to find whoever attempted to end his life, or to figure out who really sold him out tonight... A while of movement, the dire pants of a dead alien walking, the rough growls of an angry krogan. He had no clue how long it'd take for him to finally give up.
------------------
His hands set themselves upon the staircase, his pants decreasing into a slow, concentrated breath. His destination was easily found, an hour or so after his accident in the lower streets. His so called contact, this 'doctor' of sorts loomed across the few story building before him. A commercial district down the lower wards wasn't so uncommon, usually a lot of places wanting to keep out of the public eye in the wards above deal their wares and business to more seedier types. Money was best brought in from the underworld, even C-Sec itself enjoyed a cut from the deals made from these dirty workshops. It wasn't something discussed commonly between peers, but it was a pressing issue with the Council, for as much help as they could ever muster towards anything other then themselves. It was a simple way to deal business, and not even a political giant could change that so quickly. His destination resides atop the fourth floor story of the building itself, somewhat relieved to find himself close to his saving grace. Having sealed a wound or two with an unused thermal clip, the krogan was seemingly less prone to leaking at that point in time, but seem had more problems internally. Whatever was broken, had to be fixed. And he had less time to think over what to fix, over what he needed to do.
Stumbling through the front doors, and across to the elevator, the krogan groans his way through. Waiting inside, the undesirable charm of elevator tunes droned across as the metal case slowly rose itself higher.
"If the pain wont kill me... The fuckin' mall music will...", the krogan groaned out under his pained breath.
A hand pounds across the door, as much as a krogan could restrain at least. In his state, he would've easily put a hole in that door if he was desperate enough, but trying to keep himself in a good book with his so called 'friend' was what mattered the most to him. The shutter slot atop the door slid open, an eye level view of the occupant soon glaring back to the krogans set of yellow eyes.
"What do you want? Very busy, time rather lacking.", a common salarian tone droned out quickly in response to the krogans knocks.
"It's me, doc'... Open the damn door already...", Karn would groan out.
The noise of bolts shifting and electronic locks popping open would be heard as the salarian slowly pulls the door open. Not to much surprise, he finds himself stood before a rather battered beast. His eyes roll over his exterior, before ushering him inside. "Typical of you. Always in such a state when visiting, must learn better manners...", the doctor mutters as he shoves him along. The krogan can't seem to find the strength to laugh, let along respond with anything. Karn slumps into the wall for a moment, before finding himself moved along harshly to a nearby doorway. Luckily for him, his destination lead him to the right clinic in the area, and straight onto a surgical bed without any problems beforehand. Not as if he could complain about the manhandling he's been given by the time he's found himself upon the steel frame of a rather wide medical bench.
The doctor soon retreats to the doorway as the krogans concious state soon begins to blank out. His last moments of concious view are of the doctor, calling out for a little help. The krogan lacked much time to notice any assistants, but neither had much time to explain himself either. He was in a dire extent of pain, and whatever strength he held after that crash, mostly attributed to the extensive alcoholic abuse he had taken before even entering that car.
The cold, dark void became his only peace. Dead, or not... He wasn't going to be put down so easily. But for now, he had enough time to rest his old bones.
Tomorrow was going to be a long, destructive day.
|
|
|
Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Apr 17, 2015 7:09:30 GMT -6
Theraxos considered the human’s words.
“That is...noble...of you,” he said, sidestepping the question. “But does she know that? I would hate for her to waste her life waiting for something that cannot happen.”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Apr 17, 2015 10:48:31 GMT -6
"She's smart, Theraxos. She knows more about me and my circumstances than almost anyone else in this galaxy. She'll have done the math. There's a difference between waiting and wishing," Maelstrom said.
He broke eye contact for a moment, looking down at his gun, then up at the ceiling. Settling back on the turian, he asked, "What kind of math are you doing? You're not subtle to anyone who pays attention to your actions from the outside. Still, she's entering a room with you, not with you. I have to wonder if you're the one more in danger of wasting one's life waiting. Have you approached her?"
|
|
Octis Kurius
N1
"Don't like it? Cry to your lawyer about it..."
Posts: 5
|
Post by Octis Kurius on Apr 17, 2015 16:07:11 GMT -6
The trail slowly ran itself cold. The orange streaks of blood finally found it's end by an expended cartridge of thermal munitions, and given the coating of blood across it, the large imprints of a set of three big fingers covered the magazine almost completely. Yet, even with this, no weapons were found nearby, not a single thing to keep this case running. It already went cold, freezing away as not a trace of life could be found by that point. Whoever the detective was after, clearly had a head start, and then some. It was annoying enough that even the obvious trail of blood lead to nothing. There were dozens of streets, alleyways, nothing but a metal jungle of buildings and towers, probably without any witnesses to discover. Regardless, it was better then nothing by then, scooping up a little evidence might be a good idea, one of the geeks might know who this blood belongs to. There were a dozen krogan on record in the Citadel, criminal or otherwise. Finding a name and facial pattern wouldn't be so hard, but trying to find the person involved with this crash? Next to none, if they've found a good hole to hide in...
Satisfied with his findings, the detective huffs out. Annoyances aside, the case was on a halt, for now. It wasn't even his call to be anywhere near a scene like this, but given his situation, there wasn't any doubt in his mind that he'd care for any petty scoldings. Why was he so intrigued by this? There was nothing remotely interesting with this case, aside the skycar crashing through a few blocks, and it's occupant clearly either alive, or bleeding to death in an gutter, regardless of the victims situation, what made him so persistent in knowing something? The blown out thermal explosive in the engine seemed to be his only point of interest. Given how long it's been since he left the scene, maybe it was a better idea to see what the forensic nuts had figured out. His walk soon paced back down the way he had first came, his mind wandering for outcomes or links in the chain. His old tricks were coming back to him.
--------------------------------
Tracing back his steps from the destructive scene, the detective finally finds himself graced by the forensics team in sight. A bunch of salarians paw their mits across the scene, tracing areas of impact, blood and other traumatic situations. With the holographic tape connecting a cordoned off area of the square, the team were free to do whatever they pleased, within sanitised restriction, of course. Most seemed to ignore the detective as he moved on by, avoiding any of the marked zones in case of an attack of an angry mob of science majors. Moving over, the organized leader of the forensics team would be working away at a map, lining out their own assumptions to the situation. Octis sets the thermal clip onto the nearby table, clearing his throat to grab their attention. The salarian would turn, his big eyes blinking in as he eyes the turian with a slight squint to his eyes.
"Detective Kurius. What brings you here?", the salarian asks, curious to say the least.
"Was on scene when this was called in. Took a look around beforehand, hope you don't mind.", the detective responds, his hand loosening on the clip. "Found this across the way, our victim ran off down the alleyway."
"Hm. Discovery of blood details as such. Most unfortunate, water seemed to have washed most of it away.", the salarian mutters, soon inspecting the clip. "Blood somewhat dry, would need time to analyse. Appreciate the help, though not in your right to do so..", they mutter again, though still thankful in their tone. "But will thank you for assistance. Will allow your pardon."
Octis simply chuckles out, mandibles twitching under slight stress. He gives a nod, eyeing the scene once again. "Got a motive to the crime? Doesn't seem so common a car cuts out like this, let alone smashes up a residential district. Suspecting narcotics abuse, maybe alcohol. Can't be too sure.."
"Assuming car failures at best. No real sign of foul play. Will have to suspect until results are shown. You may just be right, though unknown at this time.", the salarian responds, somewhat agreeing, though barely.
The detective retorts with an exhausted sigh. Though his progress seemed impeded, the suspects blood would be his only shot towards figuring out what really happened with that vehicle tonight. DNA, names, whatever it could bring up, would help speed up progress into apprehending whoever this mystery victim was. Even if his hunches were wrong, or not, only time could tell. With the job done, he returns to his cruiser, rubbing his crest as he recalls the smaller details to the bigger picture. With all said, and done, the cruiser soon lifts from the scene, before shuttling back to headquarters. If the data was transferred directly back to the labs, maybe he could sweet talk his way into reading said report...
|
|