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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 3, 2017 7:10:43 GMT -6
[GM Post]
The freighter (the Patroclus) has left Omega and is making its way to the Omega-4 relay. The team has 12 hours to make their preparations for the operation, iron out any wrinkles in the plan, and get to know each other before going into battle.
Notes: Regarding the freighter itself, I haven't written up a blueprint, but imagine a larger version of the freighters we saw in Mass Effect 1 (enough so that it has a large bay on the bottom that doubles as a cargo bay and shuttle bay, with doors to each end). Any reasonable needed equipment can be assumed to have been picked up on Omega prior to leaving, so long as its necessity was discussed in Chapter 18. Contact the GM for extraordinary or new requests. The crew of the freighter and the Okinawa are as follows: Thomas Torrez (pilot), Anelya Cysendra (assistant engineer and counselor), Enaya Cysendra (cook and counselor), Rayel'Ban vas QuibQuib (chief engineer), Variel (assistant engineer- computer and cyberwarefare expert), Doran Sorel (assistant engineer- propulsion and weapons system expert), Sarah Williams (assistant engineer- varied talents). The vessel's original captian, Benjamin Braxton, agreed to stay on for the duration of this mission only, thanks to a significant stipend from the Shadow Broker after Feron relayed our plan (though he is not happy about it). Uniforms and equipment for both standard and advanced Cerberus classes is in storage in the ship's lockers. Anyone requesting additional details or information may contact the GM.
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 10, 2017 21:37:52 GMT -6
Thrak found himself standing in a room comprised mainly of two rows of lockers, with short benches running the center. Aside from introducing himself to the captain, whose disposition seemed about as inviting as a captured krogan's, this was where he found himself drawn to first. He had opened each of the small storage devices. While keeping them orderly, he rifled through the belongings, trying to get as best an idea as he could of what the enemy would be capable of, should he find a chance to engage them.
Of course, the order was confined to the military equipment. He had no such respect for the sentimental items left behind by whoever had once used the lockers. Those lay strewn over the floor or bench. He let out a disinterested grunt as a picture of a young-ish human man and woman standing in front of a waterfall started its slow, back-and-forth path down to the floor.
He knew better than to underestimate humans; he had experience fighting their mercenary groups. That said, he just could not find himself feeling intimidated by most of what he saw. Some of the armor seemed on the slightly heavy side, but it mostly looked like light or medium-light gear to him, nothing like a krogan would have charged into battle in. And most of their guns were just so tiny. A few pieces did impress him, though, like the swords he found mixed in with what seemed to be particularly light gear. Like the one he was looking at now.
"Heh. Takes a quad to try to get close to someone in a dainty little dress like this," he mused quietly.
The krogan had time to do what he wanted on the trip. The humans who mostly seemed in charge of making the plans had been smart enough not to burden him with any of the brain-work. Some krogan might have felt offended by that, but Thrak knew what he was gifted in: death and destruction. So long as no one was sending him to certain death, he was happy to be the muscle and let the brains have their fun.
Thinking back on the humans he had met in the past and the thin armor he was holding, he added, "Should be pink, though."
Then he noticed something on the palm of one hand. It looked like a small mass accelerator gun woven into the gauntlet. He got a big smile at that. "Nice."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 10, 2017 21:59:56 GMT -6
After making sure Naetilia and her gear were stowed, Joe made his way to the cargo bay. He had been told that's where their disguises were, and he had a sinking feeling there would be none big enough to accommodate him.
Entering the cargo bay, he found that Thrak had beaten him to it. The krogan was holding up a piece of light armor that looked like it would best fit an infiltrator.
"I don't care what anyone else says, Thrak, but I think you can fit into that," he said. "The real question though, is whether it's the right color?"
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 10, 2017 22:30:02 GMT -6
Maelstrom found himself staring at the captain from halfway across the Bridge, rather than down at the console he had come to access. He was considering what, if anything, to do with the man. Intellectually, he knew that he was not going to harm the captain. His recent experience with the network and others had softened his once black-and-white perceptions. Just a few months ago, the man would have been as good as dead for having ever worked with Cerberus. Now, he had shown that he was not their lapdog, for whatever reason, and that had just spared his life.
"You a homo or something, boy? You're not sticking anything in here, so just move along," the man said with what Maelstrom had come to assume was his normal, warm disposition.
Maelstrom only grinned a smile that would have given the man nightmares for the rest of his life had he known the thoughts behind it. "If I were going to 'stick anything' in you, it would be lead. You couldn't stop me, and you wouldn't survive it. I understand that The Illusive Man has made my name somewhat known throughout his organization I'm 'Maelstrom.'"
The man blanched visibly and went back to his work wordlessly.
Turning back to the console and his original task, he typed in a few keys. "Emily, begin download of this freighter's database to a secure drive." He doubted that there was anything that would help him wage his war in the freighter's files, but perhaps there were pieces of a puzzle he might one day solve.
Looking back over his shoulder, he said, "Don't worry, Captain. Betraying The Illusive Man tends to earn people some points with me." He paused. "Why did you betray him, anyway?"
The man shrugged. "Fell in love with an asari. And the credits were good."
Maelstrom rolled his eyes before starting to make his way off the Bridge, his task complete. He had one or two other things he wanted to check on throughout the ship before making his way to investigate what he would be using as a disguise.
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 10, 2017 22:37:06 GMT -6
"I don't care what anyone else says, Thrak, but I think you can fit into that," the human with the big armor said. "The real question though, is whether it's the right color?"
"You'd have to kill me to get me into a wedding gown like this," the krogan rumbled with laughter, before throwing the entire ensemble unceremoniously back into the locker. Thinking about the man's missile launcher, he grunted. Flashing the human a big, toothy grin, he added, "It would be a good fight, but I think I'd win it."
"How'd you earn that gear anyways, kid? Go through that Alliance 'M8' program or whatever they call it, or did you just beat someone who had and rip it off his corpse?" Straightening, realizing that what he said might have been an insult to a human, he added, "Krogan consider both ways 'earning,' it, so long as you didn't use something like poison or a knife in the back. It's how I got my hammer."
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Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 10, 2017 22:43:58 GMT -6
As soon as Geneenh heard that Maelstrom was something of an expert on Cerberus--or at least the most expert among them--she knew wanted to speak to him more to see if there was anything willing to share about the pro-human organization.
She had lost sight of him shortly after boarding the freighter as she went to stow what little equipment she had. Rather than wander all over the ship, she hacked her into into the freighter's security systems--a rather easy task, but then again it was just a freighter--and found him on the bridge.
Cutting off the feed, she made her way there.
*****
Her timing was good. She reached the bridge just as he was leaving.
"Excuse me, Maelstrom," she said. "Do you have a few minutes?"
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 10, 2017 22:52:27 GMT -6
"I'm an N7, same as Shepard, same as Lysander," Joe said as he set down the cases that he would store his armor and weapons in. "Or at least used to be."
He set the Typhoon and Crusader in their cases and then began removing his armor.
"What about your hammer, was that a reward for something? Or did you...convince...someone else to give it to you?" he asked.
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 10, 2017 23:06:31 GMT -6
Maelstrom almost made a comment about always having time for a beautiful woman, but he stopped himself. He figured spending so much time with Lysander and Fischer had the other men's personalities rubbing off on him some. That had never been his manner.
"Sure. Something on your mind?"
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 10, 2017 23:11:59 GMT -6
"Heh! I convinced him alright. I was the last thing to cross his mind, other than a spray of lead!" the krogan boasted. "Kid like you would've enjoyed the fight. Took the folks on Omega weeks to put that block back together again."
"What's that 'N7' stuff all about anyways? Just heard it that's how your kind decides on their battlemasters."
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Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 10, 2017 23:16:13 GMT -6
"Yes, I wanted to learn more about Cerberus," she said. "I suppose I should first ask exactly what kind of experience you have with them. Has it been mostly against outposts and front companies like me, or have your targets been more...substantial?"
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 10, 2017 23:31:54 GMT -6
"Multiple bases, substantial and otherwise. An elite strike team. A dedicated retrieval team. Haven't done much with front companies. Too much of a chance of actual innocents being involved there; cashiers and receptionists don't tend to know what management is up to. No, I mostly kill anyone who thinks working directly with them is a good idea," Maelstrom answered. "So far, I've never left a Cerberus structure standing when I leave."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 10, 2017 23:46:26 GMT -6
"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," Joe said as he finished removing the armor and storing it away. "Basically, we're the best the Alliance military has to offer, the top one percent of the top one percent. Just to be selected for the program is an honor, even if you don't make it.
"Initially, we're put through training of all different sorts--zero G combat, parachuting, combat diving, combat instruction, linguistics and first aid," he said. "I know, it sounds easy, but we're doing all this on maybe four hours of sleep a day, as well as minimal food. It's designed to see how far a person can go before they break--and then see how quickly they can recover.
He flexed one of his impressive biceps.
"This is good, but it's what you got in your head that counts," he said. "It takes a lot to keep going when the mission goes to shit and everybody around you is hurt but you still have a job to do and you're the only one who can do it. People who can keep going in spite of that earn that N7 designation.
"The upside of that is you get the very best equipment the Alliance has," he said as he strode over to the Cerberus armor and looked at it unhappily. "The downside? Once you have it, you don't want to use anything else."
He looked over at the krogan.
"I know you have to pass the Rite of Initiation to be considered an adult, but how you do become a battlemaster?" he asked.
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 11, 2017 0:31:21 GMT -6
"Just to be selected for the program is an honor, even if you don't make it," Fischer said.
Maybe humans are soft, Thrak thought. You don't make it on Tuchanka, you don't make it.
He listened to the rest of what the human said, and his appraisal increased a little. He suspected there was a fair deal lost in translation, and maybe more that just would not fit into words.
"I know you have to pass the Rite of Initiation to be considered an adult, but how you do become a battlemaster?" the human asked.
"Depends on the clan and the times," Thrak said. "Also depends on the usage. During the Rebellions, it was mostly used like a rank. You led men, they called you their battlemaster. Even then, though, the leader of a platoon would never have introduced himself to a warlord as a battlemaster."
"In some clans, it has to do with beating a previous battlemaster... usually killing them. In others, you take on a more extreme version of the Rite. A few of the craziest clans make their members survive a month in enemy territory with no supplies and only their armor and weapons in order to call themselves a battlemaster. It doesn't matter how, though; all the ways are brutal. No one would question the right of a krogan to call himself a battlemaster except another battlemaster... and a pretender would die if the question was ever made."
Putting his hand on the hammer slung over his back, he said, "The one I took this from might have been a different clan, but no one would question my right to call myself 'battlemaster' after I pried this from his still-warm hands. We fought in one-on-one combat, and I proved myself his better. That's the way of Tuchanka. The strong survive, but those who boast of strength are hurled into the midden. Any krogan can wield a hammer, but one like this..."
He took it off his back and looked at it again with new eyes. It had been a thing of art when I took it from the previous battlemaster. His own modifications had added to its power and ferocity. Added to the history and character of it. To him, it was almost a religious icon, and he knew it would be to the krogan he one day passed it on to... or who took it from him.
"A hammer like this is like a badge of office, and a challenge to any krogan who would think to call himself my better. When a battlemaster follows another, it is a sign of respect, not of being cowed."
He put it back. "Apologies, human. I've not spent much time with my own kind in... well, longer than you've been alive. Not many ask about my people's ways. Most see us like batarians. Nothing more than thugs." He grunted. "It's easy to get swept up in a telling."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 11, 2017 4:11:32 GMT -6
Joe shook his head.
"You got nothing to apologize for, Thrak," he said. "You are what you are. If there is a God, clearly He wasn't thinking of subtlety when He made you, and that's my case too. My password to get into that meeting of ours was 'juggernaut', which means an unstoppable force that will crush everything in its way, and that's exactly what I am.
"When this little plan of ours fails and the shooting starts, it's going to be up to you and me to kill the bad guys and keep everyone else alive," he said. "Sure, Geneenh and Meldom got their parts to play, but if Cerberus sends mechs at us, it won't be them everyone will look at to fight those things, it will be us."
He picked up a piece of the armor he would use to disguise himself and looked at it with obvious distaste.
"Might as well be naked," he said, then looked over at the krogan. "I suppose I could do that, and I'm sure a lot of Cerberus would surrender when they saw my awesomeness, but I know there would be at least one hater in there who would get jealous of it and shoot me."
He grinned.
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Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 11, 2017 4:34:52 GMT -6
"...So far, I've never left a Cerberus structure standing when I leave."
Geneenh cocked her head at Malestrom's response.
"Kill everyone and leave nothing standing," she said. "Actions like that suggest either you used to work them and had a change of heart, or you were one of their victims--or, more accurately, an intended one--and now you seek to hurt them back, only a whole lot more."
She held up a hand.
"I'm not expecting you to tell me which one," she said. "We're far too early into this relationship to reveal such personal things about ourselves. Such revelations will only come with time and trust.
"But anyway, back to my purpose," she said. "Do you have information on their technology that you're willing to share? If this plan of ours fails--and I fully expect it will--I won't be ripping peoples' arms off and beating them to death with them. That's Thrak's job and I suspect the same for Fischer. I'll be doing what I can to defeat their tech--or even better, turn it against them. It's been my experience that most people don't know what to do when their tech fails them.
"So, are you willing and able to help me?" she asked.
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Post by Arcus on Mar 11, 2017 7:52:49 GMT -6
Arcus unrolled the covering of his maintenance kit, inhaling the familiar smell of leather, cleaning oil, and the smoky scent left behind by laser sharpening tools. The captain had directed him to this small work desk in a quiet and out of the way corner. He arranged his tools out in front of him before removing a small audio device from his pocket. He paused a moment before selecting a music track and setting the device on the desk. It began playing softly. The selection was one of his favorites, a piece from the human classical renaissance period. The musicians in the recording bantered a bit before starting. Arcus murmured their words to himself. “Seven-A.” He drew a knife from one of the hidden recesses of his armored clothing. It was a particularly long blade, well over 30 centimeters. A gradual backward curve ended with wickedly sharp forward hook at the end. It was of a pre-space faring salarian design, made to hook into and sever muscle tissue. He examined the blade briefly, before setting it down in front of him. . . . of the bluebird as she sings The six o'clock alarm would never ring. . . . Arcus picked up his magnification tool and began examining the edge more closely. The thing about bringing a true metal blade onto the modern battlefield was that they had to be sharpened at the molecular level in order to be of much use against advanced armor, and the sharper a blade edge, the more care it took to maintain it. . . . Cheer up, sleepy Jean Oh, what can it mean to a Daydream believer and a. . . Arcus hummed along as he worked. none of the edges would need sharpening this time. That work had already been done; but it was prudent, and therapeutic, to check all his knives and reapply a protective coating. As he continued working, Arcus reflected back on the meeting. He had remained almost completely silent during the last minutes. He could tell that the most logical plan, most unfortunately, likely did not include much of an opportunity to anoint his blades. He considered declining the mission based on that, but working directly for the Shadow Broker was a unique opportunity. There also was the fact that this mission seemed to be more of a precursor to the actual, “bones and meat” of this particular employment. Finally, Arcus had to admit, he was very curious where this chain of events would lead him. Then, of course, there was the trinket. Arcus growled at himself. How much more foolish could he possibly have been, breaking something in Aria’s office? Aria! If she had bothered to set it at her desk, then it was probably priceless. Arcus found himself wondering again, as he had when reality set in during the end of the meeting, just how far his prior good standing with the asari crime lord went. Hopefully far enough to save his hide on their next, inevitable meeting. There will be a price for that one, old friend, he thought. Hopefully it won’t be too high to pay. Aloud, he spoke a well learned and oft practiced phrase. “Don’t Fuck with Aria.” He sighed as the song began to replay a second time. His mental faculties must be degrading further again if he was making such gross errors in judgement. He needed another dose of Clarity, and that meant wetting his blades on more than just protective oils. Finished with the knife, he set it to the side on the leather cloth before drawing another, this one of a different design and use. . . . The shaving razor’s cold, and it stings. . . .youtu.be/Iho8DRdqQCU
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 11, 2017 8:30:42 GMT -6
"So, are you willing and able to help me?"
"As far as I'm able," Maelstrom said, in all truthfulness. "I'm not a tech, though. I fall back on my VI for anything beyond the basics of gear maintenance... Well... Almost everything else. I will admit to having acquired over the past couple years a more than passing familiarity with assembling bombs, though Lysander still has me beat by a wide margin.
"Cerberus, though... Main thing to keep in mind is that they're as paranoid as anyone who knows flat out that they're breaking the law. The only difference is that they're used to being thoroughly successful. Expect lots of security protocols to gain system access. Once you have that access, the system is as open as any military system needs to be to allow rapid response in a combat situation. They're also very fond of using highly advanced VIs in their defenses. Sometimes, you might even think you're looking at an AI... they get that close to the line. In my limited experience dealing with those, you're better off using an established access code or back door to make it think you're doing authorized work, and then you begin twisting the VI against them. You have to be careful, though, and I don't know that you'd have the time on this trip to manage it. The time I did it, it took me days... but I'm also not a tech.
"Hardware-wise, expect mostly military and private-sector top-grade. They don't skimp, even on foot soldiers. When they build something, it's a piece of art. You may run into a few pieces of prototype tech that would surprise you too. They do love playing God, though I think they forget that they're just playing the part.
"Not sure if that helps. Anything more specific you had in mind?"
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 11, 2017 8:37:27 GMT -6
"Might as well be naked," Fischer said. "I suppose I could do that, and I'm sure a lot of Cerberus would surrender when they saw my awesomeness, but I know there would be at least one hater in there who would get jealous of it and shoot me." Then he grinned.
Damned cocky for someone who'd probably die if I headbutted him the way I do when I greet Wrex...
Thrak grunted non-noncommittally. "You want a room to forget what they're doing and stare, you send in a drunk krogan bare-ass naked. Lots of collateral damage, though. Usually a few salarians die just from the fright. Asari, though..." He let out a slow laugh.
He hit the human on the back in the way he had seem them do when jesting with one another, but just a little harder than he had seen them do to one another. It was not meant to injure or cause pain, but he did want to see how the human would react to being met with just a bit more force than expected.
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Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 11, 2017 9:03:38 GMT -6
"No, but your information on their systems provides me with some insight to the way they think," she said, and shook her head. "It's a shame, really. I imagine there are some very smart people working for them, people whose ideas could make the galaxy a better place, but they view the galaxy through such a narrow lens. It's sad, really.
"I suppose I could say your people have some growing up to do, but my people aren't perfect either," she said. "There are some of us who think we are the apex species of the galaxy and it's every other race ruining things. I expect if there was a way to reset every other civilization back to the time before they discovered interstellar travel, some my people wouldn't hesitate to use it.
"Sorry, didn't mean to bring you down, I can ramble some times," she said. "My father was salarian and he would ramble too. I think he may have passed that along to me."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 11, 2017 9:11:53 GMT -6
The slap on the back was a bit more than Joe expected, but it didn't bother him. He knew people like him sometimes had trouble dialing it down when dealing with others weaker than them, and he expected that was certainly true for any krogan.
"Easy, easy, don't damage the goods," he said with mock seriousness, then peered at Thrak with exaggerated suspicion. "Or maybe you're trying to take me out before the fight so you can hog all the fun and glory for yourself?"
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