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Mass Effect: Genesis


DrPhil2501

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GENESIS

 

2186 CE, one year has passed since the Capture of the Collector Base within the Omega 4 relay. The Black Ops Human Survivalist organisation titled Cerberus has performed extensive study on Collector and Reaper Technology, but yet to discover their full capabilities.

 

The Citadel Council has completely disregarded and denied the existance of the alien Reapers - an intelligent race of synthetic/organic machines. Since the attack from Sovereign and the Geth three years ago, the theories of Reapers have been reduced down to nothing more than mere beliefs and legends amongst the locals.

 

To the attention of a freighter crew, a derelict starship has passed through the Omega 4 relay with the iconic Cerberus logo imprinted on the outer shell...

 

The gigantic red jellyfish grew bigger in the distance, floating amongst the black sea of stars. The station of Omega was a haven for petty criminals, bounty hunters, assassins, mercenaries and other vermin. There was no law. Only Aria T'Loak, and her one rule.

 

Tom Ulrich glanced at the station from behind the thick shield of glass of the cockpit. It has been some time since him, Captain Tuhrop and the rest of the crew members visited Omega. They dont visit it that often, and for good reason too. But this was an acception;

 

A few hours ago, the Valkyrie had encountered a derelict ship that had passed through the Omega 4 relay. It was big news at the time, when the SR2 Normandy, a Cerberus Warship, passed in and out of the forbidden relay - and survived. That was a year ago, and since then, more reports of ships passing in and out became the headlines on the Extranet. Nobody else dared to enter the relay however, as rumours and legends of the relay are still whispered throughout the Terminus Systems.

 

Anyway, it was a few hours ago the Valkyrie encountered a derelict vessel with the imprinted Cerberus logo. The crew decided to investigate, and salvage anything of usage. All personel onboard were killed by unknown means. All that was salvagable was a few weapons, various equipment and a rather peculiar cache of encripted files and data, which was copied via Omni-Tool. The title above read "PROJECT23019~GENESIS"

 

Captain Qui'in Tuhrop stood up from the co-pilot's seat and watched as the Valkyrie passed through the structures extending out below the asteroid. The intercom began speaking to the pilot.

 

"GS Valkerie, this is control - you are clear to land in Dock 17."

 

"Roger that, control." the pilot responded.

 

Tom walked out of the cockpit and towards his quarters so he gan gather his essentials before landing on Omega.

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[Wheeee! Just to clarify: the ship has already been searched and stripped, and now the crew etc. are on the way to Omega?]

 

Thiyan Al'Taru was woken from a light sleep by the short announcement broadcast over the ship comms telling of an imminent arrival at the notorious criminal hide-away and pirate port of Omega. Thiyan considered that its similarity in appearance to an inverse termite mound was no coincidence.

 

He got ready slowly then walked through to the mess, and sat in his customary corner of the crew section - a true corner, looking out on everyone else, isolated. He checked his omni-tool to see if there were any new messages - more a ritual than in any real hope, as he had received no messages of any real import in some time. Not since the last job he took from Aria T'Loak, pirate queen of Omega. But that was four months ago.

 

He looked up as the Captain came down from the bridge, and gave him a curt nod. He was tied to this ship for another few journeys yet, but the search of the crippled Cerberus vessel had made him uneasy. There had been strange rumors about Cerberus and the equally enigmatic Omega 4 relay, all of which were unpleasant and unsettling. Anything that shadowy human organisation had its prehensile fingers in was never going to turn out well for the rest of the galaxy...

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“Do you ever wonder why we’re here?”

 

John looked down at the set of female legs protruding from out of the maintenance shaft. When he responded, it was in a thick, southern accent that bore its origins in the North American continent of Earth.

 

“No.”

 

“Really?” came the inquisitive reply. The legs squirmed for a few moments before the asari they were attached to finally pushed herself out of the shaft. She sat up and used a dirty rag to wipe some black smug off her face, though there was no noticeable difference between the two or her black and white jumpsuit. She looked up at him with bright red eyes.

 

“Yes.” John replied again, slightly shifting his body against the wall he was leaning on. His bulky armor did not make his position the most comfortable of ones, but he’d long learned to ignore the discomfort. His weapons were holstered on his back and waist, and John merely had his arms crossed as he talked to the young asari.

 

She looked slightly confused. “But wait, you’re a Chr-whatever? The human god-son thing. You’re supposed to be wondering why you’re here.”

 

“The Bible says that those who believe do not need to wonder.”

 

“Okay, what about the people who don’t read the Bible and have minds of our own?”

 

“Then I would suggest reading Pensées or, if you’re more into the opposite of what that says, maybe The God Delusion.”

 

“So it’s either or to you?”

 

“Selia, you are asking why we are here. I am telling you that I know why I am here because of my belief in God, not as to whether one exists. Those were reading suggestions.”

 

“It just seems a bit primitive and short-sighted when we’re out here among the stars.”

 

“Well, nobody has ever told me that I am an articulate man. As for being short-sighted, I get a good view of quite of few things with this helmet.” John laughed, eyeing her up. Technically, he could have done so without her even knowing. However, it was just as easy to let visible motion guide his head down her body and get a reaction.

 

The look of shock of Selia’s face as she realized what he was doing and the subsequent rag-to-the-face-camera was what John was looking for. He was prepared when she wound up and threw the rag at his helmet, catching it in his hand before it could dirty up his optical feed.

 

“You quarian pervert!”

 

What John was not prepared for was Selia going for her tool box and pulling out the first she could find: a wrench. A sudden thwack to his helmet, followed by him seeing stars solidified this fact. He was recovering when Selai tackled him to the ground.

 

“A Chr-whatever, yeah right!”

 

At this point John was laughing heavily, between Selia on top of him delivering weak punches and her poorly worded insults. After a few punches, she stopped. John looked up and she was grinning devilishly, and he could feel his own smile grow wider. Selia’s face leaned closer to John’s and her hands made their way up to the back of his helmet as his went up her back...

 

“GS Valkerie, this is control - you are clear to land in Dock 17.”

 

Selia’s smile disappeared, replaced by a frown, and John could feel his undergoing the same change. She got off of him and he stood up, the stance of both of them slightly awkward. John turned to leave, but before he could, Selia grabbed his helmet and gave it a quick kiss before literally diving back into the maintenance shaft. John’s smile returned as he headed toward the mess.

 

When John entered the mess, he saw Taru in his customary corner and gave a slight nod to the drell before heading into the kitchen to grab a tube of nutrient paste. When the Captain entered the mess, John saw him and said “Good morning Captain! How goes your captainly duties?”

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((@Salzella - Yes, the crew just came from salvaging the derelict Cerberus Vessel. Now they are heading to Omega, to sell what they found and discuss with an Information Broker regarding the encripted data.))

 

Captain Tuhrop was walking down from the bridge to the Crew Quarters, and saw the Drell Thiyan Al'Taru standing in his usual corner, and gave him a curt nod. Tuhrop returned the nod back, before encountering John- the Earth-Grown Quarian.

 

“Good morning Captain! How goes your captainly duties?”

 

The captain chuckled. "The same as always. We'll be ariving at Omega in just a few moments." Tuhrop crossed his arms. "I hope you dont mind, but I schedualed a meeting with an Information Broker, regarding the encripted data we found on the derelict Cerberus Vessel. I want you in charge of selling the salvaged equipment we found to the markets, while I deal with the broker."

 

"Then afterward, you can celebrate a little shore leave before hitting the showers. We both know what Omega is like..."

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"...and I can get you anything you need on Omega...heh, that is, as long as it goes along with what Aria orders.....which could be anything from weapons, stimulants, information....females...males...."

 

 

Sergeant Major Francis McDowell sat across the table from a rather talkative, slightly perverted, Batarian black market represenative. The dimly lit booth Frank had ordered provided a key place to observe Afterlife, the main hub of criminal activity on Omega. It also made his job ten times easier...as information brokers were as easy to find as a low-rate prostitute (which is pretty easy in Omega).

 

Frank sighed, "You know what, all I'd really like is that letter you're going to give me."

 

The Batarian's four eyes got a little bit wider and its voice had gone up in pitch.

 

"A letter? I...I don't know what you're talking about."

 

Frank chuckled, he saw how this was. The Batarian was an amateur at business, but he at least knew how to give subtle demands...in this case of more money.

 

"Oh, well, in that case, I suppose the extra 40 creds I had for you was an oversight....aw well."

 

The Batarian stood, "Wait...wait, you mean this letter?"

 

The alien produced a crinkled, yellow envelope from his satchel.

 

The Special Ops Commando smiled.

 

"Yes, that one."

 

He snatched the envelope from the Batarian, then with a blurr of motion, smashed a backfist into the alien's head. The Batarian's head gave a sickening crack, and purple liquid began to come from the alien's nose.

 

"Wha...what was that for?"

 

Frank stepped out of the booth and tossed a 40 credit chip to the sprawled out form that was the Batarian.

 

"Lying. Bad business begins with a knack for saying the wrong things. Be happy you've got the money....this overcharged crap they say is beer was hardly worth my time."

 

The booths around Frank had become suddenly quiet as everyone's attention had been drawn to the scene. That was too much in Frank's book, but sometimes, when dealing with the underworld, a certain dramatic flair was needed to get your point across.

 

As Frank left Afterlife, everyone gave him room, even a few of the bouncers. No matter the race or alien, intimidation always has an affect.

 

Once outside, Frank opened the yellow envelope, taking out a black paper with faded white writing. To the untrained eye, it seemed to be just a jumble of random letters and numbers. Things like "HUUG UOF89 GRJE00," were in fact an old engima code...some of the combinations going back as far as World War 2. It still worked, as a super advanced society like those that were in the council often had trouble understanding the most basic of messages.

 

Frank decoded the letter mentally:

 

Sergeant Major,

 

Lone Wolves 4 and 2 have both confirmed the arrival of a freightor marked as "Valkrie." According to local intelligence, they've just encountered a derelict ship near the 'forbidden' Omega Relay. One of our teams checked the ship shortly after the "Valkrie" left, there was nothing discovered, only that the ship belonged to the Black Ops organization Cerberus. This alone is reason to find out what was taken by the "Valkrie." They will be docking within 2 hours at the most, according to Lone Wolf 2. Your objective is clear.

 

Is the bull in its cage?

 

 

Frank's expression grew more serious, he had just recieved the code phrase that allowed him to do anything necessary to procure the information. Such as killing everyone on the "Valkrie" if need be.

 

He took a piece of paper and wrote down: It Already Moves Rapidly, Enter A Doomed Yurt.

 

The message was simple...and odd, but if the reader were observant, he'd see that somewhere in the message it spelled "I am Ready."

 

He then tossed the envelope into a green trash can and began the short trek to the docking modules. It was time he inspected this incoming "Valkrie."

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Of all the places in the world, Omega was Chiron's least favorite. As a doctor, this meant the crew aboard the Valkyrie had a higher chance of being injured. He didn't have a problem with helping others, in fact he liked it. What he doesn't like is not being able to help someone because they've lost too much blood.

 

This was why the mighty Krogan had been arranging his supplies. With everything in order he left his station for a quick meal. As he rounded a corner, he spotted Tom.

 

"Tom!" boomed the Krogan's voice as he walked over to Tom. "How are you my friend?" Chiron asked.

 

To most a derelict ship was something to be feared. To Rogue it was nothing more than a starting point. Rogue had no way to express fear, though Rogue did comprehend it. Without the ability to express fear though, Rogue could move through these hallways with ease.

 

Rogue was a synthetic, a geth to be more precise and not just any geth. Rogue could function without any other geth, making Rogue unique.

 

Rogue found a locked door in one of the hallways. Rogue was an exceptional hacker, and within seconds the door was open. A human body fell at Rogue, who caught the body. Rogue checked the room for any signs of life, just in case there was something in here. After finding nothing, Rogue lowered the pulse rifle it had and stared at the body.

 

Subject: Human_Deceased; Cause of Death...Unknown

 

Rogue placed the body on the ground and left the room. Even though there was no sign of life, Rogue still pointed its pulse rifle at every door. Rogue came to a room with a terminal in it. Rogue approached the terminal and found some encrypted files. As it hacked, it made the data transferable to its Omni- Tool. The files were named "PROJECT23019~GENESIS".

 

Accessing PROJECT23019~GENESIS...Denied; Reason...Unknown

 

Rogue couldn't get the files opened, which meant it would need to find another way to open it. On its way to the ship, Rogue detected another ship; The Valkyrie. The Valkyrie had left by the time Rogue alive, but it was possible they too discovered the files. Rogue was 84% certain of this. Rogue exited the Cerberus ship and got back into its own ship, its much much smaller ship.

 

Inputting new coordinates...Destination:Omega

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"Tom!" boomed the Krogan's voice as he walked over to Tom. "How are you my friend?" Chiron asked.

 

Ulrich smirked, and returned Cheron's Greeting with a handshake - consisting of rotating the hand and pulling each other so that their shoulders bump into each other. The appropriate way to greet Krogans. Not only that; him and Chiron were good friends.

 

"You ever try wearing a jumpsuit out in open space?" he replied, commenting on the exploration of the derelict Cerberus Vessel. "Its not a comforting feeling, believe me."

 

"Anyway, we should be ariving at Omega in just a few moments. The captain will want me to keep an eye on the crew while on shore leave... I hate dealing with drunks."

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Chiron was always impressed at how Tom greeted him the krogan way. The human's ability to understand other cultures, was one of the reasons why Tom was his friend. He laughed at the human's statement at the spacesuit. He also chuckled at his comment about drunks.

 

"You hate drunks? Do you know how many drunks I've had to deal with...and their projectile vomit?" Chiron retorted with another laugh.

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Tom chuckled in return to Chiron's remark. The ship suddenly rumbled - an unsuprising moment. The arms of the dockingbay latched onto the Valkyrie, and extended a passage way tunnel connecting to the ship and the dock. They finally arrived.

 

"Alright, lets get to it. Hopefully it wont be like last shore leave, and Selia wont have to toss her boot into my face again..."

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Omega was the same as it has always been - homeless/sick people sitting up against the walls of the surrounding environment. Synthesized music could be heard in the background of the markets, which was a platform deck surrounding one of the downward towers of the station - in which a vast view of Omega could be seen. The Afterlife club could be seen from just a few kilometers away.

 

A few levels up the tower was the cantina called Underworld. A few more levels up, was the office where the Information Broker resided - where Tuhrop's appointment was being held at.

 

Everybody exited the elevator, which lead to the markets. Tuhrop faced everybody.

 

"Alright, I have to go see the Broker. All of you know what has to be done; get rid of the crap we found. If anybody comes to us for a Transportation Job Offer, page me and I'll get back to you after the meeting."

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UNDERWORLD CANTINA, OMEGA

 

Quirinius V'tala had a knack for three things: speaking whatever was on her mind, chess, and charging headlong into trouble. Such were the gifts she had received from her veritable father, a krogan warlord and lieutenant to an ominously-omnicidal general. His name had also been Quirinius, and once he had discerned his superior's plans, he promptly fought the general to a long and bloody death. Krogan like to kill, yes, but absolutely everyone? No.

 

She had a sense that the salarian organizer of this makeshift "ultimate chess tournament" had more than a tad of that now-dismembered general's outlook.

 

"The terms of this tournament are simple," the salarian declared with a barely-detectable smile. "It has three rounds, and the losers either become the slaves of the winners or die--whatever the victors decide. Play fairly. If you do not, or if there are any signs of violating tournament rules, my Eclipse brethren shall violate you--chiefly by blasting a hole through your skulls."

 

Quirinius shivered. How can salarians be so blase about murder?!

 

"Sit down at your tables, and begin." The salarian nodded cold-bloodedly.

 

The two-hundred-year-old asari, rather young for her species, obeyed. She saw that her opponent was also a salarian, this one brightly-colored.

 

Hello, little girl, his black eyes said. Prepare to be defeated.

 

Not if I can help it, Quirinius thought, returning his disdainful stare.

 

She made the first move--white pawn to square e4. King's Pawn Opening.

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The crew of the Valkrie was an easy one to spot. After spending such a long period of time on Omega...anyone could tell that the clean militaristic look of the crew marked them as outsiders.

 

Frank watched from a distance, using his rifle's detached scope to watch them from a taxi that had happened to be abandoned on Omega's lower levels. It ends up that he didn't have to walk far from the Afterlife club.

 

Suddenly, the group entered an elevator, and Frank changed position, stowing his heavy equipment and opting for a light pistol along with field gear that could fit an inconspicous jacket. He moved quickly, not before checking how many floors the elevator had gone up, and went into a nearby maintenance shaft. He would have to follow the crew through unconventional manners.

 

After a period of climbing, he entered the maintenance shaft that led to a particular Nightclub...Afterlife's 'doppelganger,' Underworld. It was just a matter of waiting, now that he watched the bustling crowd from the maintenance shaft.

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Though John was technically just a hired-gun, he was on friendly enough terms with the captain that the turian allowed him to be in charge of selling all the valuable junk the crew salvaged. Of course, John was also a proven merchant as well. The sight of a fully armored, fully armed quarian selling junk must have been funny, because John certainly received looks that said that when he'd finished setting up the junk in front of the ship.

 

“Get the best parts at the best prices around!” John began to bellow over the massive crowd ahead of him. A few heads turned at the sound and a some even perked interest, though given the amount of scavengers shouting the same thing, they quickly lost interest.

 

Despite the crowd, John could tell that this was going to be a slow day today. It would only pick up when the merchants themselves came around looking for parts they could buy and resell for a higher price. The ships brought in the goods and merchants sold it, though only after John had haggled for a good price.

 

“Get the best parts at the best prices around!” John bellowed despite remembering how he'd lost his voice by the end of the day last time the ship was on Omega.

 

“By the goddess, can you keep it down?! I can hear you from inside the ship! I think everybody in every ship around can hear you!” Selia shouted as she approached John from the ship. John turned around, and Selia could just tell that he was smiling under his helmet.

 

“If you shout something loudly enough, someone might just hear you.”

 

“And if you beat them over the head with it, they'll avoid you.”

 

“Not if you can get them quality parts at a quality price.”

 

Selia just rolled her eyes and sighed, taking a look at a datapad she had in-hand.

 

“I'm going to go into the markets and get a few parts we need. Get us some extra credits besides just paying the bills, and maybe we can save something for ourselves.” Selia hinted, a slight smile creasing her lips.

 

“Only if the captain approves.” John quickly replied, neither harsh not critical, but resolute.

 

A look of disapproval appeared on her face and she said “Screw the captain. We wouldn't get half of what we do now if someone like Chiron was left in charge of selling this stuff. He'd probably eat the customers if they got into an argument.”

 

“Only if the captain approves,” John replied again, a more stern tone. The thought of Chiron eating someone was funny, but he wanted to be clear. “And that is final.”

 

Selia's look of disapproval turned into a glare and she stalked off past him into the crowd, and John was alone with the junk.

 

“Get the best parts at the best prices around!”

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Chiron nodded his head as a response to the captain, and immediately headed to the markets. He needed some medical supplies, especially some med-gel. He had his claymore on his back for protection. As odd as it was for his race, he didn't want to have to resort to violence, but even on brute strength wasn't enough to survive on Omega.

 

The mighty krogan walked from store to store, making sure not to get distracted by the merchants who called out to people as they walked by. Finally he found the store he was looking for. A salarian was behind the counter. He looked up at Chiron and gasped for a moment. the sight of a krogan usually meant trouble.

 

Chiron approached the salarian with a datapad in hand.

 

"Excuse me, but would you happen to have any of these?" Chiron asked politely as he handed the salarian the datapad.

 

The salarian seemed shocked at Chiron's politeness. He had never heard a krogan speak in such a way before. This made Chiron smile, as it always did.

 

The salarian nodded his head. "Yeah, just a second."

 

"Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

 

The salarian returned with the supplies the krogan had requested. Chiron happily payed the price he was given and left the store. Now that he had gotten his shopping done, he could put the supplies away and help the others out.

 

He had just left the store when he noticed an asari with black skin. He knew of only one asari with that complexion, and she was one hell of an engineer. He walked over to her with a smile on his face.

 

"Selia, are you looking to do some shopping...or are you getting into trouble?"

 

---------------------

 

A few hours ago, the Valkyrie left a derelict Cerberus ship after recovering some important files. thirty minutes after that, Rogue too had left the same ship after recovering the same files. Its destination was for Omega, which was now in plain sight.

 

Rogue would have to land on Omega a bit differently than most. As Rogue was a geth and geth were still viewed as hostile, Rogue couldn't land on Omega as a geth. Fortunately, Rogue was much smarter than an average geth. Rogue had some recordings of other species, it could use instead of its own voice.

 

Rogue was able to trick control into believing it was a C-Sec officer. Rogue was given permission to land and promptly did so. Rogue placed its pulse rifle on its back and turned on its tactical cloak. It stepped out of the ship and began to sneak its way around Omega.

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((Don't know if my character's approved, but I think I'll just assume yes, until told no.))

 

'Krrroommmm' went the loud rumble as Kallic was shaken from his extensive studies into things unknown, well, mostly unknown, he knew after all. Ok, so he was just looking into personal improvements for the crew, luxuries, if you will, to make life a little easier for everybody aboard, one 'body' at a time. So far he had several issues on mind, and a few 'prototype' solutions, though, it was a one person at a time project, so at the moment his focus was on improving things for the most hazarded individual aboard.....Who shall remain unmentioned for the moment.

 

Kallic fiddled with a datapad, filling in some needed components and ingredients he required for personal use, simultaneously working on transferring his latest notes into his Omni-Tool (which he doesn't always use for his projects, thus the need for a data upload/transfer, obviously).

 

He got up, datapad in hand, and while still reading through it's contents, proceeded to go down the hatch out of his little study above the main engineering room. He instinctively began following the nearest being within the periphery of his vision as they themselves exited the ship.

 

The tone and all around atmosphere changed around the salarian, and was just as easily lost on him as he proceeded to be, and remain, distracted, following his fellow crew member. Vendors shouted out to the crowds, while the white noise that was the filthy hum of destitute life on Omega droned around Kallic, only the sudden shout of a familiar voice coming from the mysterious crew member who he'd been unsuspectingly stalking by accident and instinct, brought him out of his reverie.

 

“By the goddess, can you keep it down?! I can hear you from inside the ship! I think everybody in every ship around can hear you!” Were the words that broke his concentration.

 

“If you shout something loudly enough, someone might just hear you.”

 

“And if you beat them over the head with it, they'll avoid you.”

 

“Not if you can get them quality parts at a quality price.”

 

Kallic finally looked up, scoping out the only two he knew that such a string of conversation could belong to; Selia, the one whom he'd unwittingly followed, and most likely she didn't know either, and the only thing that bridled her from flat-out mistakes on even the simplest things, John.....The Quarian. Yeah, even he found it a bit weird calling a Quarian....John, but it was a minor issue he'd gotten over the moment he met the bulky fellow.

 

“I'm going to go into the markets and get a few parts we need. Get us some extra credits besides just paying the bills, and maybe we can save something for ourselves.” Selia schemed, Kallic just rolled his own eyes behind her.

 

“Only if the captain approves.” Came John's fast reply.

 

“Screw the captain. We wouldn't get half of what we do now if someone like Chiron was left in charge of selling this stuff. He'd probably eat the customers if they got into an argument.” Kallic just shook his head and looked down at his datapad, the whole point on her common mistakes issue proven in those few words.

 

“Only if the captain approves,” John replied again, Kallic smirking as he continued with his datapad.

 

'True enough, Chiron too nice - well, for a Krogan - to eat people; especially without Captain's approval.' The salarian thought to himself.

 

“And that is final.” Kallic just nodded autonomously as if the words were for him, though in reality he was beginning to get consumed in his pondering again, and was just barely paying attention once more.

 

“Get the best parts at the best prices around!” Came the bellow as he stood there, yet again knocked out of his thoughts into the real world. He approached the Quarian and smiled, shaking his head.

 

"Older, she is, than two of me, and two of you combined into one, yet more...Mmmm, not really naive - lacking in wisdom and forethought, than one of us alone. Sad she's not more mature and responsible, such as yourself, John." Yet again the Salarian shook his head. "What a gift it would be to live as long as her kind, she squanders it on her own anxiety and impatience. Doesn't know how blessed she is I guess; especially having someone like you around John, she lacks appreciation."

 

Kallic just looked up at the armored figure and smiled. One good thing about John was, you didn't know of his approval on matters until he voiced them, that was good in that if he didn't approve, you could walk away before he did speak up. Bad thing about Kallic was, he was too nice to do that, and he liked John too much to be that way.

 

"Good to see you though John, if Captain asks, I'm in the markets." He nodded with a smile and began to walk away slowly, turning back to say, "Will try keeping eyes on girlfriend, or, whatever she is to you. No promises, she makes trouble can't say I can do anything; trouble finds her - between me and you we'll say she has a guardian angel," (with a sniper rifle): he said patting the weapon on his back briefly before turning and heading to the markets in the Asari's wake.

 

((Yeah, yeah, Chiron's at the markets with her too, but Kallic doesn't know that so I can still make smart remarks on guardian angels with sniper rifles.))

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((oh yeah, MA. Your free to join, and your character is accepted. Welcome Aboard :) ))

 

Tuhrop entered the office of the Information Broker. Two armed guards were at both sides of the door - a necassary precaution. The Broker sat behind his well furnished desk. He was a Volus named Fargel, a dwarf-sized sentient sealed within his enviro-suit.

 

"Ah, <tsssk> you must be my 20:09. <Tsssk> Please, have a seat."

 

Tuhrop did as he asked. He pulled out a datapad with the encripted Cerberus data for the broker to look at. "This was found on a derelict Cerberus Vessel we encountered near the Omega 4 Relay. He have not properly anaylised it, nor do we exactly have any need for it. We're just run a Transportation Business, as well as the occasional bounty hunting."

 

"Funny enough how a crew of mere freelancers <tsssk> encounter something as unique as this." Farger was already looking at it, and analysing it with his own software.

 

"What do you mean?" Tuhrop pressed on.

 

"This encription is nothing I have ever seen before. <Tssssk> It has so many Barriers, it could even take an AI years to break through. <Tsssk> I'm not suprised, with its ties to an organisation like Cerberus, there is no doubt this falls under the Category of Class A."

 

Turhop blinked. The Volus stared at the Turian Captain and leaned forward. "<Tsssk> Do you realise how dangerous it is to be carrying around this information?"

___________________________________________________________________

 

“Get the best parts at the best prices around!” John continued announcing to the Omega Bystanders. Soon Ulrich exited the ship and stood next to the Quarian the the stand of junk found.

 

"An easier way would be to ditch this crap over the railing, and let it fall into black space." he said under his breath.

 

He looked back at the stock of what was left. He could see John was good at this - the amount of stuff they originally found had been significantly reduced. "You know, I think we may as well stop there. We havent got much left, and I doubt anyone would come by and buy out the rest."

 

"I heard theres a Chess Tournament held at the Underworld Cantina. Wanna' check it out?"

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UNDERWORLD CANTINA, OMEGA

 

Quirinius found it incredibly hard to keep up with her opponent's sheer speed at moving his chess pieces around the board. Forget about strategy, the young asari thought. This frog-face knows what he's doing, and not only that, he does it at five times the pace I do! I don't know how to...

 

Oh, no. No. No...

 

She immediately recognized the weakness in her own position, of which her salarian antagonist immediately took advantage. I've lost already--?!

 

"Checkmate," said the salarian, his black eyes gleaming. "You forfeit the game, and also your very existence! I'm afraid I have enough slaves already, as I'm a member of Eclipse and possess the lackeys I need to perform all dirty yet necessary job functions. I daresay you play well, but not well enough."

 

The asari shivered as the salarian pulled out a Magnifex X-9 pistol from a holster on his belt. "Do you want to pray to your goddess before you die?"

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(Sorry it's taken me so long to get into this, I wasn't sure of the right time to do it.)

 

At this point, Vegrull got up from his seat at the bar, and pointed his own gun at the Salarian merc. "Let me ask you something, Eclipse: is this really necessary? Is it really worth dying over?" He asked, ready to pull the trigger on a moment's notice. He didn't care about the terms of the tournament, that asari didn't deserve to die or be enslaved over a game of chess.

 

Archangel had the right idea, whoever he was. He thought to himself.

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UNDERWORLD CANTINA, OMEGA

 

The salarian narrowed his eyes. "And whom, exactly, do you think you are?" he asked. "You're not even in this tournament, if my supposition proves to be correct. My opponent knew the risks when she entered this tournament, and yet did not anticipate losing so quickly. To die after the first round is a great humiliation, and her arrogance has been her undoing. Thus, I say she dies."

 

Suddenly, the organizer of the tournament stepped toward them. "What, may I ask, is the situation here?" he queried coldly. "Do we have our first loss?"

 

"We do indeed," sniffed the organizer's salarian compatriot, "and yet this mewling meddler has dared to interfere with the natural progression of the tournament! He is threatening my life at this very moment, and I highly suggest you either have him killed or thrown out of the cantina immediately."

 

The organizer smirked. "Even better--I'll have him thrown out and then killed." He signaled for two highly-armored krogan males to flank his right and left sides. "Mnull? Dorgan?" he commanded. "This one is causing a disturbance."

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Frank watched in amazement as the chess match taking place below him in Underworld unfolded. The strategic brutality of the Salarian was a bit much, so to see the alien humbled gave the Spec Ops commando a feeling of satisfaction.

 

But now was the time to show his hand...he needed to make contact with the "Valkrie's" crew and gain access to their information.

 

He fumbled around the maintenance shafts awhile longer, finally plopping down behind a nearby bar. He stowed any visible equipment and zipped up his jacket, then moved into the crowd. Disappearing almost immediately, he began to observe the Asari and the "Valkrie" crew, a Turian in particular.

 

Frank hated Turians. Seeing them in the war had not improved his opinion of them..they were still devious and were completely anti-human. All arrogant fools in Frank's opinion.

 

He took a position 4 paces off of the Turian's tail.

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John simply listened to Kallic as the salarian expressed input about Selia. The quarian listened respectfully and he nodded in acknowledgment at each of Kallc's points. When the salarian was finished and left, he continued with his job.

 

There weren't as many merchants this time around willing to buy junk, surprisingly. John did manage to sell quite a bit of what they picked up, but there was still a bit of excess left when Ulrich came out. The human took one look at the junk and looked a bit impressed.

 

"You know, I think we may as well stop there. We haven't got much left, and I doubt anyone would come by and buy out the rest. I heard there's a Chess Tournament held at the Underworld Cantina. Wanna' check it out?" Ulrich asked.

 

“As much as I would like to go with you, I need to put away our remaining stock first. I would rather not leave it out here when the entire crew is gone.” John replied, and began to gather the junk for storage.

_________________________________________________________________-

 

Selia was angry. She wasn't angry at John per say. She was just angry at what John could sometimes be: incorruptible. Scratch that, he was incorruptible all of the time. Not a serious risk taker, not a gambler or drinker, a hard worker who did things today rather than tomorrow, and a savvy tongue. Those traits drove Selia to rage at no end at times.

 

John was also kind and simple, which was something compared to the idiots that tried to impress her before by pretending to have a dark past. The asari had only known John for less than a year, but already she loved the quarian. Granted, he'd proposed to her a month or two before and she'd rejected, but that was only because she wasn't ready yet. Selia wasn't even sure she wanted to be with someone whose lifespan was already half over, when she was barely into the first quarter of her own.

 

These thoughts seeped into Selia's mind as she made her way through the crowd, and she would've passed Chiron had the krogan not called out to her.

 

"Selia, are you looking to do some shopping...or are you getting into trouble?" the krogan asked with what seemed like a friendly tone and Selia threw on her confident smirk.

 

“Maybe I'll be doing a bit of both if these guys try to rip me off like the last time,” She replied holding up her datapad. “Wanna help me shop? I'm sure a big bad krogan as yourself has plenty of things to do on Omega, but the company might be nice.”

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“As much as I would like to go with you, I need to put away our remaining stock first. I would rather not leave it out here when the entire crew is gone.”

 

"Alright, well let me help you out a bit first..." and so Ulrich began helping John carry the rest of the stuff back inside the ship. There wasnt that much left, and there was only a few boxes remaining. As soon as he finished putting his share of the cargo back inside, Ulrich dusted himself off.

 

"Alright, I'm going to the Underworld Cantina. I'll see you there..." Ulrich brought his trusty M-5 Phalanx before departing. Omega was a place where you had to be on your guard. He took the elevator up from the Markets to the level where Underworld resided.

 

As he got inside, he was not entirely sure whether he should be suprised or not about the sight of people fleeing from the lower levels of the cantina, with the sounds of gunfire in the background. His first thoughts were follow everybodies example. But then another thought came to mind: what if one of his crewmen were in there? He had not forgotten the last time they arrived on Omega, and the amount of trouble they wrapped themselves in during shore leave. He pulled out his Heavy Pistol.

 

"Well, its not like I brought this for no apparent reason..." he thought to himself. He ventured forward to the lower levels, where advertisements of the Chess Tournament indicated...

 

_____________________________________________________________________

 

"Lucky for you Captain <Tsssssk> there are other, more faster alternatives to decripting this information." the Volus announced proudly. "I have ties with both Aria T'loak... and the Shadow Broker itself."

 

"I have already explained before." Tuhrop repeated himself. "I'm selling you this information - because I have no need for it."

 

"I'm afraid I cannot help you in that department. <Tssssk> that is not the way I work atleast. Its not as simple as just simply forking over the creds for something I have no prior knowledge about, unless given under circumstances. <Tsssssk> The fact that your giving me an unencrypted data cache, suposedly found on a Cerberus Vessel, completely undecyphered - does not present its value to me. It could be anything, from a huge conspiracy to a recipe on how to make Calamari Bolognese. <Tssssk> I am not the gambling type."

 

"I suppose you raise a good point..." Tuhrop resignated.

 

"<Tsssssk>If you need alternatives to decoding the data-cache faster and efficiently, than I suggest obtaining a cypher. But I'm afraid something like that is a little hard to come by;<Tsssssk> cyphers originate from the people who encrypted the data, so they can view it without going through the hassle of translating it. If this came from Cerberus,<tssssk> I'm afraid you will be facing impossible od---"

 

The volus made a sudden pause. It took Tuhrop a second to realise that Farger's chest of his suit had been ruptured before him. Blood splattered all over his desk. Amongst the confusion, the two guards went down as well; with heads with massive bullet holes.

 

Tuhrop leaped up and hid behind the desk. It was clear that a sniper had taken out Farger and his henchmen. And now he was after Tuhrop. But why? Did it have something to do with the data? Tuhrop retrieved the data from Farger's Computer using his Omni-Tool.

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UNDERWORLD CANTINA, OMEGA

 

When neither krogan made a move to strike, the organizer of the chess tournament scowled. "Eranion, my Eclipsian comrade, it seems that these simpletons don't seem to take orders very well. I propose a deal. In exchange for you letting me take the asari as my own personal slave, seeing as I adopt the 'waste not, want not' approach to potential sources of cheap labor, I'll let you kill the intruder and my two bouncers--who just got fired."

 

"It seems we've come to an agreement, then," the other salarian replied, and shook the organizer's hand. At that moment, Quirinius saw her only chance.

 

"Seize her!" The organizer shouted and pointed, and all of the chess players whirled around with darkly perturbed stares. "Violation of tournament rules! Violation!" This meant one thing: someone was going to wind up dead, all because of one foolish loser asari running away, and it might not be her...

 

All of the players sprang to their feet, leaving their boards untouched, and began to pursue Quirinius. Humans, krogan, salarians, turians, other asari... No one was safe from the sudden onslaught of bodies trying to push and shove their way out of the Underworld Cantina, and fortunately for Quiri, she had about a one-thousand-foot head start. It wasn't much, but it was there.

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“Maybe I'll be doing a bit of both if these guys try to rip me off like the last time,”

 

Chiron chuckled at Selia's reply. He always found her attitude somewhat refreshing. She was just as quick as fixing something, as she was at coming up with an insult. Thanks to her he would now call any rude volus a "snot jockey"

“Wanna help me shop? I'm sure a big bad krogan as yourself has plenty of things to do on Omega, but the company might be nice.”

 

"I'd be delighted. I'll just put on the old krogan charm, and we'll have everything you need in no time," Chiron said with a smile.

 

Of course by krogan charm, he meant acting like most of his race; brutally aggressive. His race was known for being highly intimidating, but he was an exception to this. The only time he is ever truly "krogan" is when he is angered. To make Chiron mad is the equivalent of punching a thresher maw in the eye.

________________________________________________

 

An invisible Rogue made its way through the streets of Omega with ease. It had decided to go through the markets, rather than deal with whatever was down below. Rogue continued to move at a constant pace, not stopping for any reason.

 

Why would Rogue have to stop anyway? It didn't have a requirement for food, nor did it want material possessions. Without needing either of these, it would be impossible for Rogue to get sidetracked. As it moved, it did spot a very unique asari. It had never seen an asari with black skin before. Even that was not enough to stop Rogue.

 

Rogue finally found a balcony, which would provide a good viewpoint for locating the Valkyrie . It spotted the ship it had tagged a few hours ago and located the nearest elevator. With some careful timing, Rogue was able to get into the elevator, as a turian was stepping out. There appeared to be some both good and bad factors in this elevator ride. The good factor was that no other organic got on the elevator. The bad factor was that there were two quarians who too were going down. Rogue knew this term, the organics called it irony.

 

"Can you believe how dirty this place is?" The quarian with the purple mask asked?

 

"We're quarians, everything is dirty," replied the other with the green suit.

 

"Here specifically, and I'm not just talking about the atmosphere," the purple masked quarian hinted.

 

"Yeah, I bet even geth come here!" The green one said, beginning to laugh.

 

"Can you imagine?!?!" The other one added in.

 

The elevator doors opened, and the two quarians stepped out.

 

Correction: that was bad luck, not irony. This however...

 

Rogue walked over to the Valkyrie and eyed the large door. Rogue instantly started hacking the door. This was a basic organic lock, then again it was a transport ship. Within a minute, it had opened the door. Rogue stepped inside and the door closed behind it. Rogue noticed its camo's power was starting to run low, and there seemed to be no sign of organic life on board. Rogue turned its camo off and began to walk around the ship.

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Tuhrop pulled out his own gun, in reaction to the bullets piercing through the glass of the office. The sniper was clearly playing with him. Scaring him. Giving him the sense that there was no escape. The turian wasnt ready to give in.

 

He was not even sure why he claimed the data. Tuhrop supposed he wanted to be comforted by the feeling that he had something against whoever was hunting him. But right now, his biggest concern was the sniper. He began suspecting it was a Ceberus Opperative, understandably - they did salvage one of their vessels, afterall.

 

He eyed the door across from where he was. The Sniper was just waiting for him to approach that door. In situations like these, there was virtually no chance of escaping the bullets of a sniper. But Tuhrop had a trick up his sleeve to improve his survival chances; he tapped into his armor, and activated his shields. The blue kinetic barrier flashed around him, and offered him temporary protection.

 

Then he sprinted. It took at least two shots from the sniper to disable his shields; before Tuhrop could open the elevator door, run inside and shut it behind him. He pressed the floor button which would lead him to the Underworld nightclub...

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

Ulrich was brushed passed by a running Asari, joining the group of people nearing the exit of the nightclub. The next thing he knew what appeared to be Salarians wearing yellow armor pursued the crowd, along with the designated chess players. Confused at the sitation, and unaware of whom the Eclipse Mercenaries were after, Ulrich continued down the stairs to where the Tournament was held.

 

He saw two Krogans get shot by Eclispe Mercenaries, whom were now shifting their attention to a singular Turian. "Tuhrop?" his first thoughts. It was hard to tell from the dim lighting within the nightclub. As part of his reaction, Tom aimed his weapon and fired a round through one of the Salarian's head. He took cover behind the bar, and activated his tech-armor to offer him protection.

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(sorry i've not posted, been on holiday :D)

 

Thiyan, sat in a dark corner of the dingy Omega nightclub nursing a small glass of a sticky green liquid that was the closest thing they had to Drell alcohol, snapped his head around as he heard shouts and gunfire, making the participants of the chess tournament he had been watching mutter and look in confusion then anger. He, along with the majority of the bar's other occupants, drew his own weapon as the commotion drew nearer. He saw a figure enter and levelled it, but drew up when he recognized the Valkyrie's Tom Ulrich. He looked around furtively before running over and joining the human in his cover by the bar, ducking down just in time to avoid a couple of opportunist blasts from the entrance, which was by now engulfed in acrid smoke. He popped up and loosed a few shots of his own, one burning a neat hole in the middle of a mercenary helmet.

 

He looked round at the dark-haired human crouched besides him, their faces bathed in the glow from Ulrich's Tech Armour.

 

"what is going on? why are you being attack-" his question was cut short by an explosion by the bar, and he didn't catch his reply over the noise. "Tuhrop?" the Drell shouted.

 

Ulrich just shrugged.

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