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Post by Game Master on May 9, 2014 18:42:14 GMT -6
[GM Note: We will begin this part on 5/12/2014]
Cartegena Station floated at the edge of darkness, at the very outskirts of the galaxy. Past this station was the infinite darkness of Dark Space. The visible stars were cold and dim, even the star in the system was a dying red dwarf. The lone star flickered, as if it was about to burn itself out at any moment.
Even the Relay seemed ancient, uncared for. It was from centuries of ambushes and assassination attempts. The area surrounding the relay was full of undetonated mines and torpedoes. Every once in a while one of these ordinances contacts the Relay, exploding in an hauntingly beautiful fireball. None of the explosions were powerful enough to truly damage the Relay, at worst dent the metal or stain it with burn marks.
Cartegena Station was a series of ten concentric rings, the largest one was a half mile circumference.. the smallest only hundreds of feet circumference. Each ring was 200 feet wide, enough for living areas, stores, clubs, or docking. At the very center of the station is a blackened metal sphere. This is where the central meeting place was for anyone looking for work.
Esteban rented out a small bar there called Abyssal Demon. The bar resembled the name. It was dark and run down. The Asari waitresses who worked there looked broken and old, seeing way too much of the worst the galaxy had to offer. The only thing that was quality there was the alcohol.
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[GM Note]
We start off with the PC (or PCs) docking at the station. There will be at least one violent encounter as you make your way to the center of the station. The thugs and pirates here were used to dealing with unskilled prey, so your character will easily defeat them.
You would have received a personal message from Esteban, inviting you to the station. He said he picked this station because it was the farthest away from Council Space. He can discuss the mission only at the station. He offered 100,000 credits for this mission, with 50,000 up front.
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Post by Game Master on May 11, 2014 22:41:25 GMT -6
New post
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Post by Maelstrom on May 12, 2014 1:50:24 GMT -6
Maelstrom had been pleased to get Mister Bridges' message. While he did not particularly care for the man himself, he enjoyed being part of a somewhat more stable and open team. Not that he did not enjoy the couple jobs in the interim, working with Jul and his Blood Pack, but a group of krogan could be at times... difficult to deal with. And the plumbing on the Vengeance was in serious need of relief. The last time, Emily needed to seal off the compartment with the latrine and pressurize it to nearly three Earth atmospheres, then vent the waste disposal directly to space to clear the obstruction. Krogan were just not meant for extended space flight, at least not in the crafts of other races.
Maybe elcor ships could handle it, he mused, as he pretended to pilot while Emily brought the Vengeance in to dock in the private bay.
"It was good working with you," Jul said, a big krogan smile wide across his face. "I hadn't expected working with a human could be so much fun."
"You're not too upset about the loss of so many of your men, I hope," Maelstrom said, having truly appreciated the elderly krogan's company.
He waved off the comment. "These things happen. Surprised we didn't lose more on that second job. Never known the Broker to just call in an emergency job like that before."
Maelstrom nodded. It was somewhat uncharacteristic. The Shadow Broker was normally known for careful planning, moving the pieces as if in a game of chess. This last job, between finding the base where Cerberus first took him and arriving on the Cartegena Station, was almost panicked. Rush job were not unexpected, but the urgency with which the Broker pushed that one was something else.
"Hope you don't mind getting dropped off here either," Maelstrom said, knowing the other drop-ships were far away, at the station they issued forth from.
Jul shrugged, as they made their final approach. "There are Blood Pack here too. Good a place as any to pick up work and spend credits."
Maelstrom smiled widely, before slipping the helmet of his customized Collector armor- a useful trophy obtained in his last job with Bridges- over his head. Deciding to see if anyone would recognize him in his new outfit, he turned off the display on the helmet which showed his trademark ghastly smile and eerie red eye. It was a useful function for stealth ops in the dark of night, when the projection might give away his location. One of several upgrades that came with the new suit.
The batarian engineer, who he came to know as Ranken'mos Hruendo (Ranken for short), made his way to the cockpit. "So, that turret of yours should work just fine, now. Repaired the damage from the last mission. It still won't interface with your ship's VI, though." Under his breath, he added, "Not like the damned thing would let me try anyway."
"Thanks, Ranken," Maelstrom said, as the shuttle touched down with a slight tremor. Most likely, one of the thrusters was slightly out of alignment after the last mission. With a quick tap to the console, he opened a private comms channel to Emily. "Run a diagnostic while I'm off ship. I want everything in optimal condition by the time I'm back. Barring that, I want a report of everything that needs tune-up or repair."
"I'll get right on it," she replied.
He was surprised to find that by the time he was done with Emily, the members of the Blood Pack and the passenger he had picked up on his last mission had already disembarked. Rather than upset him, it made him laugh. Rather inexplicably, he found himself in a very good mood.
Before getting off his ship, Maelstrom headed back to his armory. While the Blood Pack was on his ship, he kept his geth-modified SMG with him at all times, but he wanted to get his Collector SMG and his geth-modified assault rifle before heading into the notoriously-lawless station. After a moment's consideration, he grabbed his grenades too. One could never be too careful, after all.
As he stepped off his ship and onto the deck below, he was struck by just how dingy the station was. Taking his next step, he realized his foot had landed in something sticky. His nose wrinkling in disgust, he took another stride forward, only to find his footing less sure than it should have been, as he nearly slipped in an oily residue. Even the lighting was substandard, a white illumination so dim and flickering that it meant the station was either doing its best to conserve power or that the wiring was in dire need of servicing. All he knew was that the dim, uncertain lighting was going to give him a headache.
He quickly applied a filter to his visor that rose the level of illumination and compensated for the flickering, feeling instant relief. Before taking another step, he said, "Emily, lock up. Maximum security. Don't trust anyone here."
The VI simulated a laugh. "You don't have to say that twice."
Even in the rundown station, his VI could bring a smile to his face.
That did not last long, when he stepped out of the hangar. Without seeing it, he could not have imagined that where he landed was one of the more well-kept areas of the station. He took his geth-modified SMG from its holster as he made his way through the complex, skirting the occasional panel with exposed circuits and the more common piles of what appeared to be varren and vorcha excrement. He found himself wondering which species was more prone to marking their territory, but the graffiti that began appearing on the walls soon cured him of that musing.
He tried not to pay attention, as he passed a pair of vorcha rolling around on the ground, fighting with each other. They even bit each other. Though he was not normally one for such thoughts, he could not help but wonder if the saliva in their mouths or the grime on the floor would carry a greater risk of infection. Luckily for the vorcha in question, their species was virtually immune to disease.
"Emily, next time I ask you to bring me here... give me an electrical shock," Maelstrom said.
"Do you mean it?" she asked playfully.
He sighed, considering that Bridges might call another meeting on the station, though he wondered how a man like his employer could stand to even step foot in the place. "No, I don't mean it."
"Shame," she retorted.
Even the lights, it seemed, could not be kept in proper repair. The majority of fixtures seemed to use the dim white elements, while others utilized painfully bright almost neon green elements and others used the red so common to Omega. In places there was even a dingy yellow which reminded him of nothing so much as urine. He suspected that were it not for the filters in his helmet, the air would have borne the same scent. He supposed, though, that even the yellow lights were better than the sections where there were none at all.
He brought up his omni-tool, accessing the station's extranet and plotting the most direct route to the meeting location rather than taking the extra time to stick to the main routes. It seemed a brilliant plan to minimize the time spent in the station's corridors, until he ran into a bulkhead blocking his way. The sloppily-written batarian text translated as "Hull breach to space. Goddamn vorcha ought to know better than to play with grenades. Also, screw all humans."
Not to be daunted by one failure, he tried another route, only to find his way blocked by rerouted power conduits. He was lucky his reflexes were as fast as they were and at the moment sharpened by the environment he found himself in, because the wires were not insulated, and there was no barrier of any kind separating the foot traffic from the lines. A sign hung from the exposed cables. In quarian, it read, "Danger, high voltage. Damned batarian bosh'tets."
Deciding to give it one more try, he headed towards a third route. When he arrived at the corridor, it sealed off, except for a short, wide door with a small plaque on it with volus writing. He reached up his omni-tool to translate, but a pair of volus excused themselves and passed him on their way to the door. One of them was carrying a baby vorcha in its arms. Without a word, they opened the door and headed inside, closing it behind themselves.
Sighing heavily, he did not even bother with the translation, resigning himself to taking what would obviously be the quicker but far less direct path through the main access corridors. Despite all the disorder, he imagined that at least those passages would be left open, if for no other reason than that the through-traffic would be sufficient to keep anyone from putting up residences, rerouting power conduits, or anything else... besides possibly blowing things up.
He turned the corner, caught up enough in his disgust over the station that he hardly noticed his visor adapting for the absence of a light in the corridor he was heading into. When he was halfway to his next turn, he heard a clanging clamor from overhead. A duo of vorcha dropped from the air vents, one in front of him and one behind him. More made their way out from the rooms in front and behind, and with them were several varren.
His first instinct was to use a grenade, but he was not sure where he was in relation to the outer hull, and he doubted the stations structural integrity. As the nearest vorcha started to charge, he resigned himself to battle, throwing out an artless fist which caught the vorcha in a biotic push that sent him flying into some of his allies. With his other hand, Maelstrom pulled the trigger on his SMG, first taking out the nearest foe, barely two meters away, and then sweeping it over the three charging varren, ending their lives quickly.
He turned back the other direction just in time to see the remaining two varren rising from the ground, as the three vorcha in that direction drew various crude weapons. Maelstrom took out the varren first with bursts from the SMG, ruling them slightly more vicious than the vorcha. The two beasts went down quickly, but Maelstrom found himself dodging a trio of vorcha leaping towards him a moment later. He ducked under the sweeping knife of the first, a weapon seemingly fashioned from a piece of the station's hull. Taking a step wide to the side, he dodged the pipe which followed after, its owner swinging with enough force to catch the first vorcha in the back. Rather than evade the attack from the third vorcha, who rushed him with a broken bottle, he extended both hands forward, launching the creature back with enough force that its skull was crushed when it hit the ceiling ten meters away.
Maelstrom turned back to the opponent with the pipe, only to watch him fall as the two vorcha further down the hall started firing their weapons. Putting faith in his new armor and its shields, Maelstrom took aim with his SMG, quickly ending both of his remaing foes with clean headshots.
Frazzled but not surprised by the encounter, Maelstrom made his way through the rest of the corridors both more swiftly and more cautiously.
He felt a little relief when he reached the main access routes, though only a little. They were lined with ramshackle dwellings and shops on either side. He could not tell whether what he was walking through was more main thoroughfare, a public bazaar, or a refugee neighborhood. In the end, he decided it was all of the above.
The situation did seem to improve as he grew nearer to the center of the station. By the time he reached the innermost ring, it was almost as orderly as worst of the slums on Omega. Almost.
Only once he reached the central sphere did he feel there was a little order to his surroundings. The quarters were organized along corridors that branched out from the main route, and the shops appeared to actually be established businesses. Still, by the heavily armed attire of all those present, it was clear that no one considered even this part of the station safe.
When he finally made his way into the Abyssal Demon, it was clear why Esteban had chosen it as the location for the meeting. Despite the fact that nearly a quarter of the lights in the establishment did not work, the tables did not appear to have been cleaned in the past standard day, the asari tending the bar was not in the least attractive, and the only public extranet terminal in view appeared to have been smashed in by someone's head, it was easily the most well-maintained and orderly place Maelstrom had yet seen on the station. After the rest of the place, it was almost relaxing. And it was still revolting.
Seeing Esteban in the far corner, he walked up to the man and said, "Never again. Never again will I speak badly about Omega. And I will not be having a drink. There's not an alcohol in the galaxy strong enough to sterilize anything on this station. That said, it's good to see you. I hear you've got a job. Is the rest of the team coming?"
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Post by Joe Fischer on May 12, 2014 2:29:34 GMT -6
Joe didn't want to wear his T5-V Battlesuit to the meet--he had purchased some other weapons and armor that were less conspicuous--but when he had heard where it was, he stuck with it.
He had heard of Cartegena, but never been there. He figured the only reason it wasn't more notorious than Omega was that it was so far away from regular travel and shipping lanes. This was a place where bad people came to do bad things in private.
And he was going in alone.
*****
He had just paid an exorbitant docking fee to a volus flanked by a pair of krogan and turned back to the pilot of the shuttle Marty had hired. It was a human woman, rather plain-looking except for a scar that ran the length the left side of her face, just barely missing her eye and pulling her mouth down into a permanent frown. She had a co-pilot with her, some black kid who looked like he had just discovered shaving.
"Stay here," he said. "Keep your shields up and don't let anyone in but me."
She glared at him. "Anything else I already know that you feel like telling me?" she said.
He smiled and started making his way to the meet.
*****
He had made his way through the first seven rings without any trouble; a T5-V Battlesuit, combined with his size, the Typhoon and the Crusader were enough to encourage the denizens to seek easier prey. But word would spread quickly, and sooner or later someone was going to make a run at him.
It was set up at one of the junctions that led to the next ring, which is what he would have done; controlling the places that people must use was one of the oldest tactics in warfare and had been in use since men used swords and spears to kill each other.
From what he could see, the gang was made up of a krogan, three batarians and six humans, wearing piecemeal armor and armed with knockoff weapons. And they say we can't get along, he thought and smiled.
It was a human who approached him, the smallest guy in the group, wearing armor but no helmet. That didn't surprise him either; the smallest ones were the most vicious and most sneaky because they had to be, big guys could use their size most of the time.
The little guy looked up at him and smiled. The smile came nowhere near his eyes.
"I figured the Alliance was smart enough to stay out of here, but I guess they weren't," he said. "Okay, hot shot, fifty thousand credits keeps you breathing, but you lose everything else. Start handing it over or we just make do with whatever pieces left of you we can salvage."
Joe looked to his left and right, looking for anyone else who was joining in. There were none; in fact, most people were slowly trying to get out of the potential killzone.
"I know what you're thinking hot shot, that with your pretty little suit you can take us all out, but you'd be wrong," the little guy said, still smiling the humorless smile. "Do you really want to risk finding out?"
Three things happened at once. First, Joe grabbed the little guy with his right hand and headbutted him. Second, he raised his left gauntlet and fired a frag grenade at the gang. Third, the Hawk autofiring missile launcher on his right shoulder fired at the gang. By the time the guy hit the ground, all of the gang had been wiped out except for the krogan. Another grenade--his last one--and another missile finished him off.
Joe pulled the Crusader, aimed it right at the guy's face and fired, leaving nothing above his shoulders.
"Challenge accepted," he said, working the pump action on the shotgun.
He turned and scanned the area. Anyone still in the area had suddenly found something a lot more interesting than him to look at.
He made it to the bar without further incident.
*****
Over his career, he had been in quite a few bars, so he could honestly say this one was a dump. The only people in it were the bartender, some asari waitresses with empty smiles and emptier eyes, and a couple of humans sitting in the back.
Keeping his helmet on, he walked up to the bar. "Jack Daniels, straight up," he ordered.
The bartender poured it, and Joe didn't bother hiding the scan he did with his omnitool, which came up negative on anything harmful. He paid, took off his helmet and downed his drink in one gulp before walking over to the humans.
"You picked a hell of a place for a first date, Bridges," he said before sitting down without being asked. He looked over at the other human and nodded in greeting. "Joe Fischer, and you are...?"
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Post by Maelstrom on May 12, 2014 9:57:13 GMT -6
"Joe Fischer, and you are...?" the new arrival asked.
Not unlike the first meeting with Mister Bridges, Maelstrom found himself sizing up the new arrival. He wondered if it was because the armored figure was unfamiliar to him or whether it was the effect of simply having traversed the treacherous station. The armor and weaponry were certainly impressive, though Maelstrom imagined a few quick biotic attacks would quickly put them on a level playing field.
Maelstrom hit a couple controls on his armor, causing his trademark toothy smile and single red eye on the helmet to flash into existence and then fade away. "The name's Maelstrom. Pleasure to meet you."
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Post by Joe Fischer on May 12, 2014 10:49:10 GMT -6
Joe bit back an impulse to laugh--just barely. Maelstrom? Sounds like something a wannabe on his first mission would use, he thought. But still, he made it here. Okay, let's see how seriously he takes himself...
"Maelstrom, huh?" he asked. "So did you give your mom hell while she was carrying you, or did you wait to get out of her before tearing it up?"
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Post by Maelstrom on May 12, 2014 11:44:33 GMT -6
"So did you give your mom hell while she was carrying you, or did you wait to get out of her before tearing it up?"
Great, he thought, another full-of-himself jock who can't tell his gun from his...
But Maelstrom could play. The other man was gauging how well he could take a joke.
"Never asked my mom how that went," Maelstrom said. "Bet yours could offer some insight, though."
To relieve some of the tension, he extended a hand to the other man. If he took it and shook, they would be fine. If not, Maelstrom was already primed to release some biotic power; being on the station had seen to that. Adrenaline could do wonderful things.
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Post by dargene on May 12, 2014 17:28:22 GMT -6
Meldom rolled his eyes as he came through the airlock carrying a side satchel placing several glass like beakers with strange liquid into it along with syringes "I still don't see why you had to see me out, i am capable of walking out the door correctly" he said with a half joking tone.
A woman followed him out crossed her arms and responded "I take it you forgot what happened on the job in Thessia... or Omega"
Meldom winced alittle "Thessia was your fault.. told me wrong door, you should have known the museum had an annual charity event on the day we decided to do a heist.. as for Omega creating a door still counts.. even if it was a 10 story building.
The woman shaked her head "Okay i admit the charity event was my fault.. a little.. at least you had a black suit to go with the occassion.
"It was a stealth suit callibrated to hide me as long as possible, not for blending in Shroud" he smiled at her.
Shroud shook her head "Anyway, how long should this one take" she said with a twinge of worry in her voice.
Meldom reached out and patted her on the arm "No idea but it pays well, getting half upfront.. guessing not all fun and games.."
Shroud sighed "It just seems you seem to go on these missions just as i get out of hospital, what about the last big score we have yet to plan"
Meldom smiled "Have no desire not to do that.. and while we are at it you still owe me 10,000 credits.."
Shrouds eyebrow picked up "You sure about that, last check i had was you indebted to me for 20,000"
"Pretty sure i paid that off and thensome with the medical bills, or are you forgetting that brief sixth month stay in hospital" he said checking his weapons were attached to his armour.
"Oh come on that does not.. you must be joking that does not even count!" she protested but Meldom raised his hand.
"Will call it even since you got me here in one piece then"
Shroud threw her hands up and laughed "At last balanced books between us, how long will that last i wonder"
"Not long im sure" he said smiling "I must not keep them waiting any longer, anything bad happens i will call.. or you know i won't"
Shroud simply sighed as she walked back into her shuttle.
Meldom started his walk around the station, grumbling how bad the design was before he was stopped by two ragged looking people.
"Ey you.." one of them started to speak "Got anythin to spare mate".
Meldom looked at the man with a deadpan face and threw a small credit chit with 20 credits on it at him "Thanks.. now me and my friend here will just be taking the rest off ya" while he was speaking the other man positioned himself behind Meldom.
"You really want to do this ?" he said with a cold voice.
"I think we do, considerin the fact we erd you and that woman speaking about mass sums ya see, and frankly we be thinkin we would like to relieve you of said credits.
Meldom spoke calmly "Well unfortunatly for you i do not carry that sum of credits on me nor would i care to have to much in the bank at once"
The man and his friend just chuckled "Ere well maybe we will just take it out on your pretty little lady fri."
The mans sentence was cut short by Meldoms fist hitting the mans adams apple with swift speed and aim causing him to choke and collapse for a few seconds ,in a swift movement he dodged the attack from behind and started to trade fists with the man that was behind him after awhile he stepped back with the same breathing pattern he had while entering the fight, the man however was beaten and breathing heavily.
"Ad enough?" the man shouted
Meldom smiled with an almost insane sort of smile and flicked his hands, in an instant two omniblades appeared from the tools on each hand.
"My dear friend.. i am ending this" he says as he moves forward to the man.
"Sod this!" he man screamed running in the other direction.
The other man was crawling away still recovering from the blow to his neck, Meldom kicked him in the chest causing him to fall on his back in pain.
"Ugh fookin ell!" he croaked out as he held his ribs.
"I would say next time find an easier target.. but for you there is no next time, threatening me is one thing.. my friends is another."
He grabbed the man and started to drag him to the nearby airlock and closing the the inner door with the man inside, as he stood up he banged on the glass and started to shout "Le..m..out" the voice could barely carry.
Meldom held his hand to his ear and pointed "Whats that, can't hear you" he said while tapping the glass "Glass" after shrugging he fiddled with some controls, the warning lights went off as the outside door opened forcing the man into the cold depths of space Meldom walked to the location he was suppose to meet people at, as he walked away he muttered "Silence still remains"
After reaching the bar it was not difficult to locate Esteban, he started to walk upto him and swiviled out of an waitresses way at the last second taking a drink from the tray she carried without her knowing, he joined the table and sat down without a noise.
"Hello again"
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Post by Joe Fischer on May 12, 2014 19:52:34 GMT -6
Joe surprised himself by bursting out laughing at Maelstrom's response. It had been funny, but not bust-a-gut funny. Who gives a shit? Guy can take a joke.
When he finally finished, he extended his hand. "You're all right, Maelstrom," he said.
"Hello again," came a voice from behind him.
He turned to see a salarian sitting down. Okay, need to get that guy a cowbell...
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Post by Maelstrom on May 12, 2014 20:08:40 GMT -6
"You're all right, Maelstrom," the new arrival said. Maelstrom relaxed; his little joke had been received the way he hoped. It was always a gamble in such a situation, and it paid off this time.
"Hello again," Meldom said, having materialized in a seat with hardly any sign of his entry. Maelstrom only noticed his approach because he had been watchful after their last meeting in a bar.
"Good to see you again, Meldom," Maelstrom replied.
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Post by Esteban Bridges on May 13, 2014 0:17:40 GMT -6
Esteban sat at the dying heart of Cartegena Station, within the bar known as the Abyssal Demon. The lights occasionally flickered in the dingy establishment, somehow fitting with the rest of the decaying features. Rusted metal and filth were everywhere. One hand was on a glass of stale Jim Bean bourbon, the other hand wrapped around his pistol. Though he appeared to be calmly nursing his stale drink, he still felt on edge. He eyed some of the other residents of this bar. Krogan and Vorcha so old and broken, their regeneration was unable to fully heal their wounds. Asari with hollow, dead eyes... shuffling around like the dead. The Abyssal Demon choked the life out of anyone who visited.
He sighed, wishing he could have picked any other place rather than here. He stared at his drink resting in his hand for a moment before the first member of the team arrived. Maelstrom. Esteban nearly smiled. Maelstrom was the first person to enter into the bar that looked remotely alive. "Never again. Never again will I speak badly about Omega,' the mercenary said as way of greeting. "And I will not be having a drink. There's not an alcohol in the galaxy strong enough to sterilize anything on this station. That said, it's good to see you. I hear you've got a job. Is the rest of the team coming?"
"I hope so," he responded truthfully, setting down the drink onto the bar. "I want people I can trust on this."
He glanced over at the new arrival... an impressive former Alliance man. His profile was passed along from the Shadow Broker. Esteban had to agree to share some of the technology he acquired from the Nithian base. From the look of that Destroyer armor, it was well worth it. "You picked a hell of a place for a first date, Bridges," he said before sitting down without being asked. He looked over at the other human and nodded in greeting. "Joe Fischer, and you are...?"
Esteban sat back, watching the exchange between the two. He knew both men were impressive and a fight between them would most likely tear this broken down station to pieces. It seemed like they knew that, rather using banter to show they won't back down from each other. He wished he had something he could drink while watching. There was no way he was touching that Jim Bean again.
"Hello again," Esteban jumped, nearly pulling out his pistol... but he recognized the Salarian voice.
"Meldom..." he gasped, trying to catch his breath.
"Good to see you again Meldom," Maelstrom added on.
"How did you do that?" Esteban asked, finally catching his breath.. legitimately curious.
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Post by Joe Fischer on May 13, 2014 3:58:37 GMT -6
Joe surveyed the new arrival. The way the others addressed him by name meant he was not new to the team either. Okay, so far I'm the only rookie.
That didn't concern him. Ever since joining the military, with each new assignment he had to prove himself to his new teammates. He might have to work a little harder at first to establish himself with this team, but then again they didn't let just anybody into the N7 program.
You were supposed to keep her safe...
He pushed that line of thought down and said to the salarian, "I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you're an infiltrator, right?"
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Post by Murchadh on May 13, 2014 7:44:10 GMT -6
Elsewhere on the station the ships mech pilot was making his way through the station a large metallic box slung under his shoulder. His eyes were scanning the corridors trying to source out potential threats. The ship he had bought passage on to get here was still back in the dock and didn't seem to happy to be here.
He could hear footsteps coming up behind him. He didn't trust anyone on this station. You thought their employer could hire somewhere else for a meeting with the amount of credits he could throw around.
The footsteps where getting closer and he could hear the sound of a knife being pulled from it sheaf. Keeping calm he kept on moving not quickening his pace to give his attacker the impression he hadn't noticed him.
At the last second he spun around slamming the metal case into his attackers face. The vorcha screamed in pain as the case hit it teeth shattering several of them. Before he could get his balance Murchadh brought his leg round in a kick sending the small creature across the corridor.
Without looking back the scot grabbed the Vorcha’s knife and legged it as fast as he could away from the scene the noise would bring others and he didn’t want to deal with more attackers. His hands gripped the pistol hidden under his trench coat. He may need it.
Arriving at the bar he gave a smile to the others there before sitting down at a bar and put his case on the desk after ordering a shot of whiskey and a pint. Hopefully nothing was broken he thought to himself as he opened his case. This thing cost a fortune.
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Post by PaladinKOSP on May 13, 2014 8:19:30 GMT -6
The turian stepped off the shuttle, observing the environment he was in. "Egh.. this place is filthy." He thought as he continued on ward. Then thousand credits for the job, fifty thousand up front, that's what the message said. Even as he made his way to the bar, he was wondering how he lowered himself to this, doing mercenary work. He was better off capturing bounty for local authorities. But the last job the human gave him was.. intriguing, which was probably why he decided to take the job.
The turian arrived at his destination and looks up. The Abyssal Dragon, rented out by Esteban for the next meeting. The turian looked inside and shrugged at the dirty place. "I was expecting better.." He thought as he stepped into the room, donned in his formal attire, with his trenchcoat worn by clean and his duffle bag hoisted over his shoulder. He looked around at the others, remaining quiet.
"We could of picked a more sanitary place." The turian responded.
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Post by Weyrloc Karn on May 13, 2014 8:41:51 GMT -6
There weren't that many places as bad as this, even so, most people who think of a horrible place usually think of Omega.. Then again, the station itself held enough bad memories for it to be stuck in his head. The weak krogan and broken asari, all shoveled between the biggest wastes of flesh to ever exist.. Cartegena was an easy place to run jobs, half the time the effort put into them was just generally a bigger waste of time. Smuggling, roughing up people, all of it was an easier way to make a little money.. Though back then, Karn was younger, more desperate.. This station made him sick, the job itself didn't seem all that worth it once it was sent around.. But the payout was enough to interest, enough for him to drag himself out to a place he probably never wanted to be inside again..
The shuttle soon docked in the port, the krogan hopping himself out right after opening. Karn scanned the area, scoffing a moment at the run down mess that was the station, "Ain't any different then it used to be..", he muttered. He gave his head a brief shake, himself soon moving along, passing down the residential area, though it looked more like he ran into a red light district in Omega, then a place any sane person would attempt to live in.. The street was cluttered with them, beggars, thugs, even a cheap asari on the side of most corners. The mere sight of it made him sick, his scowl proving enough of this.. His venture through the area wasn't without interest however, eyes drifting along as they watched, some in fear, some in awe.. The rest, sadly.. Watched in a violent intent.
He wasn't generally that lost around the station, a lot of the area was easy to navigate, generally most of it stuck to the back of his mind, the now repressed mess of memories slowly sliding out as he continued to move along the narrow alleys. His venture soon came to a stop, however, as the alleyway is soon cut off on both sides, the local thugs thinking it's an easy picking.. Karn was amused by it, more or less, the sheer thought a bunch of vorcha and humans decided to play the big men.. Well, until the literal 'big man' popped up. A krogan shuffled through the crowd, the boss, probably, given his cocky grin. Karn found that to be.. Disgusting. A broken krogan had no right to grin such a well, to think he can look down on a man such as he.. It made his blood boil, gave him a desire to mess the floor with his blood. Luckily enough, he probably could.
The krogans constant bragging was a blur to him, his rage building up insanely. He didn't care what he was saying, if he was insulting him, insulting what he was, none of that mattered. Well, it stopped mattering once he was beating his face into the floor with his gauntlets.. The built up rage from that turian messing up an easier job, the station bringing back the worst memories anyone could ever think of.. And the fact this, 'krogan', was an insult to his eyes. The sheer horror of his goons relayed in their eyes, the sprays of orange blood flailing along the street just coating whoever stood by. The poor bastard he was beating on had no chance to second wind, no blood rage or even any form of rage. The old krogan was dead before he realized it..
Karn soon rose from the battered, mutilated corpse. His silver, metal gauntlets soon covered in an orange mess of blood. His stare on the goons was enough to petrify, though luckily for them, a simple growl was enough to send all of them running, cowards by nature, it would seem. He soon came to, his eyes drifting from the corpse to his hands. A brief chuckle emits from his throat, himself soon walking away. One broken pipe and a little water later, he comes along lacking any stains, hell, he didn't want to make a bad first impression. His venture soon brought him to the center sphere, the bar in the description clear in his sights. He entered, his eyes drifting along the occupants, himself making full well to avoid any unwanted contact as he moves along. He makes his way to the bar itself, leaning against it as he looks around once again.
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Post by dargene on May 13, 2014 9:50:39 GMT -6
"Good to see you again, Meldom"
"Meldom.." Esteban choked.
Meldom nodded "You to Maelstrom"
"How did you do that?" Esteban said if Meldom did not know any better he sounded almost surprised.
"The way i always do, Tis no hard feat to move without sound, almost like a dance but with more thought involved, a skill most valuable for someone like me in my line of work."
He took a sip of the alcohol in his hand and stared at it "Not bad for a place like this"
"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you're an infiltrator, right?" he heard from the new addition to the group.
"Among other things" he said smiling at the man and extending a hand "Meldom Wake, Ex Salarian STG, Assuming you are some form of alliance military from stance"
He gave Joe a once over staring at the Armour in particular.
"That Armour of yours is.. different, custom fit, well made for just a standard Marine, high ranking, possibly, leader of a squad or ship" he rambled on.
"Apologies" he coughed "Should allow you time to speak"
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Post by Eric Lysander on May 13, 2014 10:45:17 GMT -6
“And there it is… if there’s an ass end to space, Cartagena Station’s the toilet it sits on.”
Eric Lysander beheld the dilapidated station in the distance, shaped and battered much like an overused target at a rifle range. Esteban Bridges, who employed his services on his last big job, had reached out to him again but insisted that the details could only be discussed in person at this location. Eric surmised that Bridges was not so quick to sell off the ruins and had made some more headway in uncovering its purpose. What more could he have found other than proof of the Reapers’ existence?
“Hah-hahh, thass beautiful!” gargled the shuttle pilot over the comms, a somewhat late middle-aged, crusty bearded human. “You’s certainly a man o’ many talents! Thanks to you we can dock safe now.”
Eric, outside the shuttle in his sealed Kestrel armor, turned about the magnetic mine he had just defused and detached from the starboard wing baffle. It was of krogran manufacture, modified from a turian design. Krogan were not much for subtlety or finesse. The ordnance was quite easy for Eric to disable.
“Yeah-ah, can you at least wait ‘til I’m back inside first?”
“Oh yeah - sure, sure…”
The demo expert deactivated the bomb disposal configuration on his armor and made his way back to the opening airlock, taking slow, high strides as his magnetic boots alternately released and engaged.
“And remember our deal, Smitty: fifty percent of my fare back for this little favor.”
“Ah, c’mon! I needs ta eat!” squelched the pilot. “’Sides howum I gonna earn ‘ nough creds to get mah engine coils updated?”
“Hey, I’m bein’ generous; I coulda just asked for a full refund.” Eric climbed inside the airlock and sealed the door. Pressurization and decontamination routines commenced as the shuttle engaged its drive core and closed in on the station.
The inside of the station was in far worse shape than the outside. The bay the shuttle landed inside was rife with graffiti. The air was musty with less-then-adequately recycled air, humidity, perspiration and bodily secretions from a multitude of species. The other passenger’s ambled down the ramp, shoving past the pilot and Eric who were completing negotiations. The pilot engaged his omnitool and transferred over the agreed-upon fee with a scowl.
“Wooda been your ass flushed downa toilet too if dat mine went off,” he protested.
“Wouldn’t’ve been an issue if your coils were insulated properly,” returned Eric, holding up the small disabled mine. “Here; a little souvenir – take it. Safe as houses now. ‘Mind you to get that problem fixed.”
“Wipe your ass wit it,” he grumbled as he turned and headed back into the cockpit. “And give mah regards to the udda turds!”
“… you’re welcome…”
Eric rolled his shoulders, took up his duffle bag and headed down the ramp. He waited for the bay to empty before sneaking around the back of the shuttle. Checking about him again, he then took the mine and attached it underneath the wing. Once he verified it was secure, he quickly exited the bay into the riot of colors and bustle of the station.
…
Eric ran up to the entrance to the Abyssal Demon where he came across a homely-looking asari carrying a tray of drinks.
“You’re here for the party too, huh?”
Eric stopped and grabbed a glass off the tray, heaving and taking a large sip before spraying out the drink on the floor. He looked up at the asari and was a bit disturbed that even a species known for its beauty and grace can suffer a few blights.
“Just got away from one,” he coughed.
“It’s not following you here, is it?” said the asari, growing more concerned.
Eric staggered into the bar and switched on his omnitool, dividing attention between its readout and the thin slit windows near the roof. “… if I rigged it just right… not a chance…”
Eric then realized that Esteban Bridges was present, along with Maelstrom, Meldom, Murdach and Aractus.
And a new face.
“Hey, guys,” Eric wheezed. “Hold on - I’m just waitin’ for somethin’…”
Eric went back to checking his omnitool and the windows. There was a palpable tension in the air. Suddenly the black outside the windows flickered and brightened several times. A moment later the room and the rest of the station shuddered; an alarm was heard in the distance. Eric’s omnitool emitted a steady tone, the device he was tracking no longer put out a signal. He stood up straight and switched it off.
“Deal’s a deal, Smitty” said Eric up at the windows. “No backsies…”
Eric turned and sauntered up to the counter, going down the line.
[RPs may either leave him hanging or offer handshakes/fistbumps which Eric will return]
“Fearless Leader! We meet again… Hey, Mal! That’s a new look for you… Meldom, my man! Good to see ya… Murdach! You rapscallion you… Artacus, your smile always brightens the room…”
Eric stopped at the human, pointing fingers at him. “New guy!" He pointed back at himself. "Eric Lysander.”
He stepped back to regard everyone and adjusted the duffel bag strap on his shoulder. Then he gave a large exhale and said “Apologies for the fireworks display. Hadda improvise since I didn’t bring my usual bag o’ tricks with me… considering the neighborhood.”
Eric stood arms akimbo, nodding his head. “Amazing the attention you can attract with a ghost transponder shunted to a rail gun power coupling broadcasting arming codes!”
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Post by Joe Fischer on May 13, 2014 12:48:15 GMT -6
"Among other things," Meldom said.
Typical salarian, the only thing bigger than his intellect is his ego. How do both fit in his head?
He chuckled at the remark about his armor being well made for just a standard Marine. "That's because I'm not a standard Marine, I'm an N7," he said. "And this is the T5-V battlesuit. Frag grenade launcher built into my left gauntlet. Hawk autofiring missile launcher on my right shoulder. Typhoon machine gun slung over my left shoulder and Crusader shotgun on my back. I'm not a Marine, I'm a walking, talking weapon of mass destruction. You need a planet destroyed, I'm your man," he finished with a grin.
Three more joined the group in quick succession, a human, a turian and a krogan, and he was about to introduce himself when another human entered and the lights flickered, followed by a shuddering that could have only come from a large explosion.
Guy sure knows how to make an entrance...
He greeted the others with an easy familiarity and stopped when he came to him. "New guy!" he said, pointing at himself. "Eric Lysander."
Lysander...where have I heard that name before?
He searched his memory as Lysander continued his self-congratulatory speech. And then it hit him.
"Eric Lysander!" he called out and swaggered over to him just as he wrapped up his speech. "The same guy who ran with Commander Shepard, savior of the Citadel? The galaxy must have a sense of humor if it's letting someone as ugly as you still draw breath."
He grinned again, showing his teeth. "Joe Fischer."
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Post by Eric Lysander on May 13, 2014 13:58:04 GMT -6
The blond human in the battlesuit took in Eric for a second, as if he heard of him.
"Eric Lysander!" he called out and swaggered over. "The same guy who ran with Commander Shepard, savior of the Citadel? The galaxy must have a sense of humor if it's letting someone as ugly as you still draw breath."
He grinned again, showing his teeth. "Joe Fischer." Eric squinted his eyes and held a hand in front of them. "Eah, Jesus! We already had one light show today! Turn off the blinders, wouldya?" He put his hand down. "Looks aren't everything, pretty boy. You do know this is a merc job and not a photo shoot, right...? Hey, how do you know 'bout me and Shep? We never me-" Eric leaned in and pointed to him again. "You're N7?"
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Post by Murchadh on May 13, 2014 15:21:42 GMT -6
Murchadh gave Eric a fist bump and a smile as he turned back to his case. His attacker had left several teeth in the silver metal which he was now proceeding to pull out. He'h hate to be bitten by one of those things.
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