Background Image

Mass Effect RP IC Thread

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by dx144, Jan 21, 2017.

  1. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    There is a war brewing. Many have no idea of it. Many deny it but a few have seen what is coming and frantically try to prepare for a storm, the likes of which the Galaxy has never seen. Some might not even call it a war... They'd call it extermination.

    Omega, claimed to be the Terminus System's dark parody of the Citadel. It is easy to make such claims, Omega's history is a long one that dates back thousands of years and as one would imagine has a colourful past of so called rulers of Omega, the current ruler of Omega isThe Pirate Queen, Aria T'loak.

    The station is a haven for many who would be considered... Unsavoury by most civilised systems and races but at one time or another their services are called upon.

    Omega is filled with various warlords calling to arms from those who're stranded, looking for adventure or those who're just willing to kill for credits for their personally armies.

    The docking bay is filled with these warlord's men and women striving through the cattle for those who'll be killing or the ones being killed for their respective warlord. There is many throwing out calls to join the Blood Pack, others the Blue Suns and some for the Eclipse but many freelance groups such as this small group, The Terminal who do odd jobs here and there at prices cheaper than the other mercs around but are so small they for the most part go under the radar.

    If they pulled more jobs then perhaps the bigger groups like the Blood Pack would convince them to go elsewhere but till that day they were taking what they can from the constant flow of business on Omega.

    Their recruiter was a tall Turian, was an odd one without his face painted, a Barefaced Turian but had scars across his face, where they came from is a mystery but it mattered little. This Turian was offering a chance to the citizens and those stranded on Omega alike a life within a Mercenary clan. To many on Omega this was a golden ticket.

    The only draw back was those wanting to be hired needed to bring their own equipment and willing to follow orders. If the Turian didn't bring compliance through his demeanor he did so through his weapon, an M-27 Scimitar that looked like it'd seen just as much combat as its owner.

    The Turian seemed to be ignored by most who were there looking for a group to join with, it could have been that they were unknown and many would wish to take a chance with the Eclipse or Blue Suns or perhaps their mission was a much more dangerous one.
  2. Grukk was currently reading through his holopad, currently ignoring all those around him. He wasn't sure exactly why he was currently on Omega. In fact the last fifty years of his eight hundred and fifty plus years of life have been quite a blur to him. Going back to mercenary work after such a long time made him realize how much it hasn't changed in the slightest. Just new groups with different names doing the same old things as before to make credits. Being a Krogan many would assume he'd just stick with the Bloodpack, but he didn't need whelps that were young enough to be his grandkids telling him what to do. He may have been old, but he was still a Krogan, and with that came a sense of pride that still has yet to falter. His armor, being of the Krogan Battlemaster heavy armor variant was just as much a symbol of pride as it was protective equipment. Yes, he walked through Omega fully armored, only a fool wouldn't. If you're going to take a stroll through Omega, you're going to want your gear on your person.

    Seeing the Turian elicited a raised eyebrow from Grukk. He's taken many contracts from many different clients back in the day. And the only time someone openly recruited like this was out of sheer desperation or to sucker people into taking positions as canon fodder. The Turian seemed to have his fair amount of scars displayed on his face. Grukk wasn't one without his fair share of scars either, cuts, slashes, scrapes, many of which have faded over time. One such scar being a dent on the side of his green head crest, said head crest being a much darker shade and with a muddy brown tinge to it attributed to his age. The weapon that the Turian held looked older then the man that used it. Only one with a low amount of credits to their name would rely on such old and worn out weaponry. Either that or the man was idiotically sentimental toward his own gun. Your weapon is a tool and a means of defending yourself, nothing more. Getting attached to it is a sign of foolishness and naïveté. Keeping an old gun around for sentimental value is inviting weapon malfunctions into your future.

    He had to learn that lesson the hard way.

    Besides, just because you're friendly toward your weapon, doesn't mean the feeling is reciprocal. Your gun can be used on you just as well as it can be used on your enemies. Many incidences of pulling a gun out of their owners hands proved that point well. If the Turian was trying to look intimidating-or even credible- it wasn't working on Grukk. Still, what's the worst that could happen. He has to shoot the fool because they thought they'd pull a fast one on him. It wouldn't be the first time that happened, that's for sure. With an audible groan Grukk rose up from the table he was sitting at and wandered over to the barefaced Turian.

    "Alright I'll bite, what's this about?" Grukk asked the Turian, his voice deep and raspy as he spoke. His inflection as he spoke being dead panned and emotionless, coming off as tired and slightly annoyed already.
  3. Gorlek let out a low hiss as the Quarian weakblood held firm on their prices for the capacitor and considered changing to pistol negotiations. The weakblood tensed beneath its exosuit and its hands fell to hovering over its own side arm. He knew he could draw before the weakling, but from experience knew that more often than not someone else would get involved for reasons he still did not quite undertand, but no longer had a crew of his own to back him up in case of such a possibility. When he returned to Omega from the Terminus edgeworld he had found none left of his Clan he recognized, many had been rounded up by the Blood Pact when he had, and he could garner little of those that remained. Though the current Elders were younger and less experienced than he, they had the support he didn't, if he appeared too ambitious they would certainly overwhelm him.

    No he needed credits, but would not return to the Pact. He was not concerned about the recruiters staking the docking bay for the same reason he had no desire to return. The Krogan paid almost no heed to their Vorcha, they would not recognize him even if he'd walked up an announced himself. That was fine by him, he was done being their cannon fodder now that he comprehended what that meant.

    One of the others. Maybe Eclipse. They enjoyed their tech and he found the Solarians less detestable than the other aliens, however the feeling was rarely mutual. Checking his Omni tool he could see his frustration had raised his internal temperature and heart rate, though he was unsure this was significant. After briefly noting it he surveyed the hanger and noticed a Turian whose bearing was dissimilar to the other Merc recruiters. More composed and less of the arrogant swagger.

    As the Krogan moved in Gorlek allowed his curiosity to distract him and left the Quarian without a word, lurking just out of arms reach of the plate face and stared at the spike head with the scars, saying nothing but listening intently to the exchange.
  4. Caentyr Caentyr Subordinate

    Aulpius stood propped up against a wall in the Omega docking bay. With his helmet on, it would appear as if he was sleeping. The reality was that his eyes were darting faster that a laser, target to target, prize to prize. A good warrior never lets his guard down, but a smart one will appear to.

    This was not the first time he was at Omega. Ever since the Turian military had let him go, Omega had been his source of meals via organized "accidents" and "coincidences" that he set up for his clients. Politician getting too big for his pants? Nationalist insurgency becoming to popular? Aulpius was your bird.

    He didn't like what he did, but it fed him. Enough for the next job that is. He was stuck in a perpetuous cycle of working, eating, and looking for the next job. The Turian military had set up the illusion that he was "fighting the good fight" against the very "predators of society" that walked passed him. He chuckled at the irony of him becoming the very thing he used to consider himself above.

    He was not better than them.

    He was worse.

    He was the Apex predator.

    Aulpius had been watching the recruiter since he first arrived. He couldn't really get a read on him and wanted to make sure this recruiter was the real deal. Con-artists were a common thing in Omega and he liked to keep the small amount of credits he had. After a while suspicions of it being a scam lessened and he stepped out of the shadows and approached the fellow Turian. Taking a quick look up and down at the recruiter to give the impression that he wasn't stalking him the past 5 hours.

    "Ill join"
    DaKaptin, The_Dokta, dx144 and 2 others like this.
  5. Valonox Valonox Preacher

    L was having a drink at the bar talking to his old boss who he had just completed one of his cargo security runs he hated running simple missions with no action it was his final contract with the smuggler anyway he was trying to negotiate a deal for the contract to be reinstated but L's skill was being wasted on simple security with no action he hated it to the fullest but whatever pays the bills right. L told his soon to be previous boss. "Hey I gotta run I got bills to pay Child Support, the Alliance is really riding my ass to pay this year I'll catch you later." L then left to the lower decks and proceeded to the market.

    L walked out of the Afterlife and wondered into the market below and smelled the grimy air that filled with Batarian uncleaned eye-sockets and Vorcha ass. He wondered around seeing the Eclipse was recruiting again... 'That's a death trap for sure not my kind of business." But then L saw a Turian beaten to all hell like he's seen worse for ware but sticking out like a sore thumb for someone especially if a Krogan that got his attention and didn't go straight into the Blood Pack like most Krogan muscle did upon coming to Omega. He approached the Turian. "You got room for a Human?"
  6. @dx144 | Growling in frustration as he looked at his virtually non-existent finances the human called Paul Metcalfe rose from the bed that took up most of his 'apartment'. There was almost nothing besides the bed to suggest that the chamber was occupied and such evidence, pieces of armour, weaponry and thermal clips, soon found themselves attached to Metcalfe. Leaving the apartment, confident he could turf out anyone who'd taken up residence when he returned, the ex-marine made his way to Omega's docking bay.

    He instinctively avoided the Blue Suns, disgusted by humans who could work alongside the four-eyes, and the Blood Pack, although he gave the thought of joining Eclipse serious consideration. Turning his attention to the smaller mercenary groups Metcalfe spotted a turian who seemed to be gathering a crowd. Stepping up behind another human Metcalfe glanced at him and then the turian before speaking.
    "And another one?"
  7. Seabassinator seabass Arkhona Vanguard

    Nearby, A salarian with a grim expression moved through the streets as he used his omni-tool to remind himself of just how tight on credits he was. Barely enough to scrape by another weeks worth of meals. If he didn't find work soon, he would have to start risking pissing off someone powerful from hacking the few bank account access points around omega. Hahnlar was careful with his money, always keeping a small apartment, never spending more than he had to....locking said apartment with encryption when he was out and about. but now his luck was running out as fast as his credits, He had to join another mercenary outfit to keep living.

    Hahnlar had made his way to the docking bay, where the recruiters for mercenary outfits hired those looking to trade their combat, technical, or biotic expertise in exchange for adventure, companionship, battle, and most importantly: Credits.

    The thoughts of the Salarian were quick, Blood pack was immediately out of the question, filled with ranks of bloodthirsty brutes. To prime of a target for law enforcement. Blue suns had too many rumours of black market activities and full on piracy surrounding them. Even eclipse seemed unappealing given how their members are joined for life, even rumours that they send out death squads to those who leave them. So, the Salarian turned to the smaller mercenary recruiters. The majority were boring or were offering jobs that payed poorly for the effort required. But one stood out of all the others, A turian that had the attention of two krogan, another turian, and two humans. Perhaps whatever was being offered was tempting to the ears? Hanhlar approached to listen to the turian recruiter's offer.
  8. Wata Wata Arkhona Vanguard

    Dagor had been taking a break from merc work. Most of all it was boring but he hadn't shot anyone in a while either. Right now he was looking for employment.
    Sal saw one of the recruiters garner attention more than usual. He got closer to indicate interest and hear what the job was.
  9. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    The Turian looked at the Krogan, Grukk, he could tell from the start this wasn't your everyday lowlife looking to get off Omega. Then again when was a Krogan...

    "We're recruiting for a mission we've been given, all I am obliged to say at the moment is this mission involves the Geth on a world outside of the Terminus System. That's all. If you want sign up and I'll tell you more."

    With a Vorca he got the feeling that they were a group for some reason, one doing the shakedown, one keeping watch incase of others. It was starting to get more tense.

    That was until another spoke up, this was a Turian easily identifiable by the voice, with his words of wanting to join.

    "Good good, sign here we'll be done soon and you'll head off to a briefing on your mission."

    And this seemed to bring in the more good luck with a human no less wanting to join up.

    "Always room for another, sign here and consider yourself part of the mercenary family."

    The luck kept rolling with now another Human wanting to join, hell he'd meet his quota of mercs in no time now.
    "Sure thing, sign here and join up."

    A Salarian that looked slightly interested but another Krogan made him feel slightly uncomfortable.
    "Now how about the rest of you, we've got a mission to deal with a small force of Geth outside of the Terminus System, prices are fair, five thousand credits now, five thousand once the job is done so that makes ten thousand credits and accommodation while the mission is underway."

    The Turian then pointed to a sheet for them to sign.
    seabass, DaKaptin, Valonox and 3 others like this.
  10. Gorlek regarded the aliens around him with a cool contempt, they'd volunteered before even hearing the creds. The first to charge into an unscouted door usually caught a bullet for their efforts. He saw no ship and no obvious ties to an outfit, the credits were good but would be no help if they ended up stranded and outgunned.

    Gorlek pointed at the Turian's chest as he exclaimed, "Wait now, Scarface, what Clan you fight for? How we get there? How we return? And Gorlek want know what salvage he get from metal men."
    DaKaptin and dx144 like this.

Share This Page