N7 Special Operations (OPEN, send sheets to GM)

[Tyrannical]

Welcome to N7 Special Operations. You are here because you are the best at what you do, and one of the best hopes for the galaxy during the Reaper War. Or you want to read the stories of them. That works too.

Our story takes place quite late in the Reaper War, however, we are staying as far away from the events of any of the Mass Effect games as possible. If we are FORCED to, I (The GM) will make decisions about any actions undertaken in the game.

Players, please post your sheets with your first post.

Spoiler: My Character, Nilus

Name: Nilus Kyral

Race: Turian

Class: Sentinel

Age: 29

Abilities: Tech Armour, Warp, Overload, Throw, Pull.

Equipment: Knife, L3 Biotic Implant, High Grade Turian Manufactured Explosives

Weapons: M-96 Mattock with scope, M-5 Phalanx.

Appearance: Dark Yellow Skin with white colonial markings cover both eyes horizontally. He has a smaller head fringe when put into comparison with other turians. The right side of his face is lightly scarred after a fist fight with a Vorcha on Omega during shore leave.

Clothing: "No Armour? HA! Someone hasn't been to Omega!"

Armour: Turian Medium Armour, with a helmet. Dark Green with SIlver Plating.

General Bio: Like all Turians, Nilus joined the military at the age of 15, and continued to serve all of his life. As a recognised biotic, Nilus advanced through the military ranks quickly, and soon found himself with his own command. Having served valorously (primarily against the Geth), Nilus found himself appointed to an N7 Special Operations team under Rear Admrial David Thorel. Nilus is the epitome of a Turian soldier. He always completes the mission, no matter the cost, and will not allow anything, or anyone, stand in his way.

Spoiler: Rear Admiral David Thorel

Name: David Thorel

Race: Human

Age: 42

Equipment: Alliance Dreadnought The Adelaide, the 22nd Alliance Marine Corps.

Appearance: Broad Shouldered, stands at just above 6 foot, completely clean shaven. He has dark green eyes and a claw mark on his left cheek. He is very pale, and always appears extremely alert.

Clothing: Alliance Officer Uniform, wears Star of Terra at all times.

General Bio: Rear Admiral David Thorel was an N7 Marine who served in several key conflicts across the galaxy, including the Skylian Blitz and the response attack on Torfan. He is a trained Mantis Gunship Pilot, sniper, and strategist. After his participation in the Battle of the Citadel, where he commanded The Adelaide during the attack on Sovereign, he was promoted to Rear Admiral of the 9th Fleet. Now, during the Reaper War, he has been given command of an N7 Special Operations Squad. He directs them from The Adelaide, and uses his information networks (some of which best left unexamined) to provide tactical information.

Spoiler: Gunnery Chief Louis Malis

Name: Louis (pronounced Loo-ee] Malis

Race: Human

Age: 27

Weapons: M-9 Avenger, Standard Issue.

Appearance: Thin, tan, short. He has cropped black hair, and blue eyes.

Armour: Louis wears light human armour in the standard Alliance blue. On the left shoulder is his N3 mark.

General Bio: Louis was born in Paris, and never left Earth until he begun active service in the Alliance Marines at the age of 22. He trained as a shuttle and gunship pilot, and is well trained in the use of both the Kodiak Dropship and the Mantis Gunship. He is wary around aliens, and very rarely trusts them. He received his N1 designation at the age of 23, after returning to Earth to attend the N-School at Rio. Over the next 4 years he returned repeatedly, and was decorated for valour, risking his life to evacuate numerous deep-op squads, and several civilians during the Reaper attack on Earth. He is now assigned to an N7 Special Operations squad as their Kodiak Pilot.

Spoiler: Mel

Name: Meli'Dolah vas Adelaide nar Qwib'Qwib (Mel)

Race: Quarian

Age: 20

Weapons: Arc Pistol

Clothing/Armour: Her bio-suit is dark yellow, with a swirling pattern. She wears an equipment brace around her hips and back that allows her to carry extra engineering equipment.

General Bio: During her Pilgrimage, Meli'Dolah found herself in service of David Thorel aboard the Adelaide, and worked in the engineering department. There, she learnt effective Alliance strategies, rationing, and troop training. After receiving permission from Alliance High Command, she relayed this information to complete her pilgrimage. However, rather than returning to the fleet, she elected to stay behind, and serve aboard the Adelaide as chief engineer. After Thorel was assigned to command an N7 Squad, Mel was assigned to be their engineer and weapons acquisition officer.

Nilus awoke in the barracks at the Citadel. He was recently assigned to an N7 Squad, serving under "Rear Admiral David Thorel" (whoever the bloody hell that was). He sighed and rose, and walked out into the commons. "Of course... leave it to the humans to be late." muttered Nilus. In truth, the rest of the squad wasn't late, Nilus, in true Turian fashion, had in fact arrived 2 days early. He spent the days cleaning his guns, playing "Alliance Corsair" on his Omni-Tool, and enjoying a Blasto Marathon over the Extranet.

A small light went off on his Omni-Tool. "Thorel" Nilus sighed. "Yes Rear Admiral?" "Nilus, glad to see you're finally awake. The rest of your squad should be arriving shortly. You'll receive orders when they do. You'll also meet your squad's engineer, pilot, and weapons acquisition officer." said Thorel, sticking to his usual monotone. The last squad member interested Nilus especially. 'Sure, the Hierarchy sends some of their best men to be in these squads, but spirits forbid they send them any decent equipment.' thought Nilus angrily. "Very well. I'll just finish Blasto 5 then shall I Rear Admiral?" muttered Nilus. "Enough of the title Nilus. And yes, Thorel over and out."

 

[Ultraman950]

Name: Ailia "Ai" Fletcher
Race: Human
Class: N7 Shadow
Age: 29
Abilities: Tactical Cloak, Electric Slash, Shadow Strike, Acrobatics, Sword Mastery

Equipment: Her eyes are capable of night-vision. Small explosives, small pouch for extra thermal clips, cloak generator.

Weapons: Mono-molecular blade, palm-gun, Black Widow.

Appearance: Lithe build, tall, short black hair, piercing blue eyes that glow slightly (because of the implants), pale skin. Scar on the back of her right hand when she mishandled her blade the first time she held it. Light Scottish accent. Exudes a general air of "not important; ignore me".

Clothing: Thick leather jacket covering body armor and a small shield generator (she's been to Omega), form-fitting jeans with black sneakers. Wears black gloves to hide her palm-gun, and keeps her mono-blade in a special hiding place under her jacket.

Armour: All-black. The only thing not black on it is the N7 logo, which is dark red and grey.

General Bio: She joined the Alliance when she was 19 in order to escape her life of petty theft. It turned out her skills became invaluable when she became an Infiltrator for the Alliance Military. She was commended for taking part on Eden Prime, after which she was added to the N7 program. She had several commanders before eventually moving up to Captain Hannah Shepard's crew.

War Record:
Pre-N7: Eleven successful infiltrations against various races, mostly Turian. Two partial-successes. One botched.
Post-N7: Ten successful infiltrations. One partial-success. No botches.

A woman with short black hair walked lazily down the hall of the Citadel toward the commons, scuffing the heels of her black sneakers on the floor, her jeans making scraping sound as she swayed her hips. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of her thick, leather jacket, even though she was clearly wearing gloves. Her gaze as she looked around appeared equally lazy, despite her piercing blue eyes. There was an N7 logo on the jacket's breast pocket.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing here. Maybe she was just bored and hoped some shopping would get her out of it. With luck, she might at least have to deal with a pickpocket or something. She hadn't gotten a new assignment in quite a while before this one, and had never served with a Turian before. Or any alien. She usually worked solo, or with a small group of Humans. This would be something new for her, at least.

She took one step at a time down the stairs, discreetly looking around, as she made her way slowly to the shops to see what she might buy. Plenty of fish. A few weapons she didn't need. She idly wondered if the gun in her arm was compatible with pistol upgrades. As it was, it could only be upgraded with surgery, and she wasn't sure it could get much better anyway. Besides, no way was she getting an extended barrel for the thing. The lump on her palm was annoying enough as it was.

She checked the time on her omnitool. It was almost time to meet her new partners. She began looking around for a Turian with dark yellow skin, still acting discreet. She didn't know why.

 

[Redryhno]

Spoiler: Litherax

Name:Litherax Fadonis
Race: Turian
Class:Infiltrator
Age: 36
Abilities:
TacCloak
Sabotage
Incinerate
Energy Drain
Sticky Grenade

Equipment: The HMOT Omni-Tool, various materials to create traps should he need to retreat, Disruptor and Armor-Piercing ammo, and a couple packets of medi-gel.

Weapons: M-13 Raptor, modded with a Thermal Scope and High-Velocity barrel, and the M-5 Phalanx heavy pistol.

Appearance:Average for a turian, standing at 6'6" and a few kilos, he is missing his left flange and his facial markings suffer because of it. His skin is a dark grey, almost brown, and has yellow paint outlining his eyes, leading down to his flanges, and another pair of lines leading from his tear ducts, down to his neck.

Clothing: Standard military issued clothing, immaculate most of the time.

Armour:Standard N7 armor

General Bio:Litherax had a standard Turian life, both parents in the military, and when he turned 15, his service career began. At the mid point of his time, he and others were screened for possible Spectre status, but he declined while it was still opt-out of the tests, preferring the life of the military to peacekeeping. He worked with a small dedicated group for the most part, various missions involving Batarian slaver rings and providing security for military scientists. All either classified or droll stuff.

War Record: When the Reaper invasion began, he and his team were in enemy territory, where they held out against Reaper ground troops for two weeks before receiving evac. Being one of six of the original 15 to survive, he was singled out for special operations, namely N7's joint species operations. His equipment and his skills have served he and the teams he's been assigned to well.

Litherax walked through the Citadel with purpose and the standard Turian walk, almost a march to anyone else he supposed. It was here he was to meet another Turian and the remainder of this "N7" squad. Strange to think of himself under a human designation with Palaven still under fire, but he was knew he was better suited to this than planet-wide combat. Too many dead, maybe he could prevent a few hundred less. Then again, he might be setting off an Eezo Bomb to glass a planet.

He paid no attention to the shop or stall owners that cried their wares, making sure to avoid the human Rayman(he was unsure of the correct pronunciation) vendor, the smell of the stuff turned his stomach. Especially with it not being dextro-based. Believing he had found the correct Turian after a short search, he approached him.

"Nilus I presume?"

 

[IFS]

Spoiler: Ravvik

Name: Ravvik

Race: Vorcha

Class: Soldier

Age: about 12 (he doesn't know his exact date of birth)

Abilities: Bloodlust, Carnage, Flamer, Submission net

Equipment: Armor piercing ammo, a hydralic amp and he has customized his omniblades to a small extent.

Weapons: M-22 Eviscerator with a High caliber barrel, and an M-5 Phalanx pistol

Appearance: Ugly, what do you expect from a vorcha? He has a darker skin tone than most vorcha, as an adaptation to living on a world with intense sunlight. He is also shorter than most vorcha but also more muscular as a result of a brief time spent on a high gravity world.

Clothing: His off-duty atire is surprisingly varied, even inluding some formal attire tailored to fit a vorcha, and he has an interesting collection of hats. He looks fairly ridiculous in any of his clothes but nevertheless attempts to project an air of formality.

Armour: Not much, but still more than your standard vorcha, it is made of a flame retardent material to prevent him from being burned, as that would hinder his regeneration. He is indifferent to the color of his armor but tries to pick a shade that will help him blend in with the environment better.

General Bio: Ravvik worked for the blood pack from a young age, and quickly proved himself a cunning and dangerous soldier, more intelligent than your average vorcha (though that still isn't saying much) he soon found himself in charge of a small division of the blood pack, and ended up with the unexpected responsibility of having to speak for the group, adaptable as always he went to lengths to educate himself to better serve in this function. He proved surprisingly erudite for a vorcha and while he has a tendency to use large words to appear intelligent he is a surprisingly capable negotiator and strategist, and generally makes every effort to be polite. When he isn't fighting he can often be seen reading or trying to otherwise further his education, though he realises that his race and lifespan put great limits on how smart he can possibly become.

He was recruited to an N7 spec ops team after his division of the blood pack was mostly wiped out in a battle with Reaper forces, as his tactical decisions and martial prowess prevented the fight from becoming a total disaster and because they wished for a diverse racial presence on the force to encourage and represent galactic cooperation. He views it as an interesting opportunity to test his skills and to fight for more than credits, something which appeals to his delusions of nobility.

Ravvik made his way across the citadel commons, he breathed deeply smelling the clean citadel air, he had been here before of course, but it still struck him how different it felt compared to other places. He ignored the staring of others as he went, he felt that it would not be dignified of him to acknowledge their rudeness, though he suspected that it was either his hat or his suit that drew their gaze. The hat was of human design and did not fit well on his head, but he liked it anyways as it matched his suit, although that did not fit as well as it used to either, since he had gained muscle mass as a result of his recent trip to an elcor colony world. It was rare enough to see a vorcha wearing any real amount of clothing, nevermind one that was properly dressed, and since he was going to meet his new employer he felt that he should be well dressed, even if it made him seem a bit ridiculous.

He wondered as to what his new employer and his teammates would be like, the employer was a turian which meant that he was likely a disciplined and practical individual, if a bit too traditional. As for the others he was used to working with and leading krogan and other vorcha, and he doubted there would be another vorcha on the team, he hoped there would be a krogan or two though, they were undeniably effective on the field of battle.

He called a shuttle to take him the rest of the way to his destination, and pulled up the book of human and asari poetry he had been reading on his omnitool, he did not think that he was able to hold the same appreciation for it as one of the more civilized species, but he enjoyed his attempts to better himself nontheless, besides a cultured vorcha was surprising to people, caught them off guard and their reactions could tell him a great deal about them.

 

[Ruedyn]

Spoiler: Komma

Name: Komma'Rinnel Vas Lokshi
Race: Quarian
Class: Sentinel
Age: 29
Abilities: Push, Pull, Reave, Tech armor, Overload.
Equipment: Specialized Medigel for use on himself, and the L3-R. He won't shut up about the second one.
Weapons: A very heavily modified Avenger assault rifle. Larger mags, stabilizers up the wazoo, lightweight parts,that sort thing.
Appearance: He is stocky, for a quarian at least. He stands at around 5'8, and slightly more muscular than the usual quarian. He can't even remember what he looks like underneath his bio-suit, but he hopes he has a beard.
Clothing: Biosuit.
Armour: His biosuit is snow white, and extremely light, except around the torso which is reinforced with old human kevlar. His visor is cyan blue, and outfitted with thermal vision, and made out of bulletproofed glass around the eyes, with plastic reinforcement around the edges. These additions to his suit can't be seen from the outside, of course, but they do equal much better protection against the elements.
General Bio: He was born the child of an overbearing father, who was head of Engineering division on the Lokshi, and a mother he never got to know, as she died during child-birth. People told him she was a navigator when he was old enough to care. In fact, his whole childhood was filled with people telling him things he should've cared about, engineering. He can see why they thought he would, he was constantly tinkering with things. For the most part his interests were varied, until he saw a biotic. One came to trade with them once, and his powers seemed like just that, super powers! Something fantastic, and seemingly rare. He devoted most of his time working with broken implants, and seeing how they tick. He used his pilgrimage as his official good-bye to the Flotilla, though he didn't say so to anybody. He went straight to Omega, hoping to get an implant. He was quickly taught how expensive they are, and worked as a minor mercenary and major gambling addict. After several (2 at the most) years, he finally saved up enough money for one, and even got the surgery despite the constant advice that he really shouldn't. When it was over, he was alive, and able to use basic abilities. He learned from his friend, an Asari in his merc band. His crowning achievement was his mastery over 'Reave', all it took was months of arduous training to earn that ability.Still, this ability made him a novelty, and made his friends and him somewhat known around the galaxy. His eager friends took the new work well, despite the new hours being hell and mostly being bodyguards for the paranoid assholes that are commonly known as politicians. One of these suggested they join his pet project, an N7 spec ops team after saving his life from angry Elcor. They accepted, and here they are.

Komma drifted to his destination, in a tired haze. Although his friends had actually gotten drunk, he stayed up with them. All the way to 20 minutes ago. He knew he smelled bad, and he noted several people covering their noses as he passed. As well as their wallets, but that was par for the course at this point. He sighed, and kept moving. He wondered what his boss was like, hoping for something slightly less... Turian-y? Not sure that was the word, but it fit. He was hoping for somebody without a stick up their ass, and allowed for a modicum of freedom.
Probably not.
Still, the rest of the group could be pretty cool. Perhaps a krogan or two? They were good meat-shields, if nothing else. Probably a bunch of humans, though. They were assholes as a whole, but individuals tend to be nice enough people. His thoughts were derailed as he saw some neat goodies in a shop window. He noticed some new omni-tool attachments, general upgrades. Unfortunately out of his price range. He sighed again, and continued moving.

 

[Tyrannical]

"Indeed. You must be Litherax." He gave the fellow Turian a perfunctory handshake before looking at the gun slung over his back. "Oh sure, give the sniper a thermal scope, but when the biotic wants one, oh no, to expensive. Damn bureaucrats." he growled.

"I'll show you the barracks. It's just off the Presidium walkway, near the fountain... right after we meet up with these lazy "squadmates".

 

[IFS]

Ravvik arrived at the meeting place and saw two turians, one of whom matched the description he'd been given of his new employer. He approached them and once they spotted him he tipped his hat to them with one hand, extending the other for a handshake.

"Greetings, I am Ravvik, I take it you are Nilus? A pleasure to make your acquaintence," he said, the fact that he was a vorcha meant that he had difficulties with snarling out his R's and hissing on his S's, nevertheless he did his best to sound cultured and polite.

He turned to the other turian, "I take it you are one of my future teammates? May I ask for your name?"

 

[Ultraman950]

Ailia continued her discreet, slow, deliberate steps toward two Turians and a Vorcha. She also noted a male Quarian heading that direction, as well. Thanks to the cybernetic upgrades to over 60% of her body, she was able to "overhear" the brown-skinned Turian (Litherax, evidently) refer to the yellow-skinned one as Nilus. The Vorcha introduced itself (she could never tell the difference between Vorcha genders) as Ravvik. It was easily the most polite and well-read Vorcha she'd ever heard. Most of them stuck to using simpler words and didn't even bother with prepositions or the like, and even the smarter ones tended to be aggressive and quick to shoot. She took this as a good sign. So far, she was the only Human in this group, which did nothing for her paranoia (however justified it may be).

She kept her distance from the group for a while, just watching to see what they did, before deciding to finally make her presence known, however discreetly. Before, she had been watching from the corners of her eyes. Now she walked slowly up to the group, looking straight at them and keeping her face stoic. She stopped a few feet behind Litherax and Ravvik. She was only a few inches shorter than the former and towered over the latter. She didn't speak.

 

[Redryhno]

"Oh sure, give the sniper a thermal scope, but when the biotic wants one, oh no, to expensive. Damn bureaucrats."

"That's because you biotics are behind the frontlines more often than not, thermal scopes aren't needed when you're in a bunker overlooking what my team's blowing apart."

Litherax sat down as he finished speaking, and settled down into the chair opposite this Nilus. So he was a biotic? So much for that story about the military not letting go once they found one. And then a peculiar Vorcha approached, wearing clothes and a hat of all things. Quite strange to say the least, he didn't even know they'd been allowed on the Citadel, but here one was. He stuck out like a sore thumb, like that one Krogan in Batarian-controlled space he'd been sent to take care of a few years back.

"I take it you are one of my future teammates? May I ask for your name?"

"That would depend on you and I actually being here for the same thing wouldn't it?",He said, eyes narrowed slightly, his one and a half flanges flared out a bit,"I'm here for military service, you appear to be dressed for an Asari party."

He stopped his flaring and narrowing of eyes before hearing the sound of slightly unsteady breathing from behind himself.

"And your breathing certainly gives you away easily Human, so stop standing around and either say something or keep moving. Military matters civilians have no need of hearing may well begin shortly"

Spoiler: OOC

Sorry if I messed with a part of your character, getting everyone together as quickly as possible just seemed the best way to do this, I'll do my best to not do something like it again.

 

[Ruedyn]

"Wow... That's creepy." Komma said, sauntering up to the group. A vorcha, a creepy female, and 2 Turians.
'Yeah... this is going to suck.' He decided to try and show off, using pull to bring a cup to him. Some of it spilled on the ground, but it worked more or less. He used the straw, and took a sip.
"So, who are you guys and are you the ones I'm looking for? N7 I think?"

 

[Ultraman950]

"And your breathing certainly gives you away easily Human, so stop standing around and either say something or keep moving. Military matters civilians have no need of hearing may well begin shortly"

"Not a civvie," the woman replied with a small Scottish accent. "And I've been watchin' you for the past ten minuets. Not surprised you didn't notice." She pulled her dogtags out from under her jacket. "Commander Ailia Fletcher. N7 Special Ops. Infiltration and assassination, but no stranger to open combat."

She looked from the corner of her eye at Litherax as she flexed her right hand, revealing a small bump underneath her glove, on the palm. "And I prefer 'miss' to 'Human'. Manners, Lith."

They didn't need to know about the short sword on her back, under her jacket. Not yet.

 

[Tyrannical]

"I apologize for Litherax's behaviour Commander Fletcher. I'm Captain Kyral, 8th Cabal Regiment." he said, followed by a salute. "Quarian, you need to work on your fine biotic manipulation skills." he laughed, pulling the cup away from him without spilling single drop. He tapped a few buttons on his Omni-Tool. "Thorel, another Turian, an N7 Marine, a Quarian and a Vorcha just showed up. Is that it?....... Right. I'll wait then" muttered Nilus.

"We're waiting on an Asari. Until then, anyone else got Alliance Corsair on their Omni-Tool?"

 

[IFS]

"That would depend on you and I actually being here for the same thing wouldn't it?",He said, eyes narrowed slightly, his one and a half flanges flared out a bit,"I'm here for military service, you appear to be dressed for an Asari party."

Ravvik was used to such insults, but he still disliked the air of superiority with which the turian looked down on him, he could tell a retort would get him nowhere with this one, "Have you seen a vorcha at an asari dinner party? Ends up much worse than any battle you've seen," he said, trying his hand at humor.

At any rate the rude turian's opinion mattered little to him, he was fairly certain he'd been in more fights and seen more bloodshed in his years with the blood pack than this turian had in his entire military career.

He barely heard Ailia approach, and only really noticed her by the shadow she cast, the turian acknowledged her and she came out of hiding, clearly she was skilled at stealth, not a skill he normally had to work with considering his former company. After she had finished talking to the turian, who she called "Lith" he turned towards her.

"I apologise for his manners, rudeness is often the sign of a small mind," Ravvik said to her, "If you overheard his name then I assume you learned mine as well, nevertheless I feel I should introduce myself, I am called Ravvik."

A quarian approached Nilus and attempted to show off with biotics, this surprised Ravvik, though he hid it well, most people couldn't read the limited range of Vorcha facial expressions anyways. He'd fought quarians before they were surprisingly durable considering what he'd read about their immune systems, but he'd never even heard of a quarian biotic before. Nilus showed off his own biotic talents to the group then spoke into his omnitool.

"We're waiting on an Asari. Until then, anyone else got Alliance Corsair on their Omni-Tool?"

"No krogan? Dissapointing, ah well, I will be over here reading unless anyone wishes to speak with me," he said, starting to pull back up the book of poetry.

 

[Ultraman950]

"I apologize for Litherax's behaviour Commander Fletcher. I'm Captain Kyral, 8th Cabal Regiment."

Ailia gave a simple salute back. "No worries."

"We're waiting on an Asari. Until then, anyone else got Alliance Corsair on their Omni-Tool?"

The SpecOp held her glowing Omnitool up. "Yep. Somethin'd be wrong if I didn't."

 

[Redryhno]

Litherax smiled, a rare thing that happened with any Turian really, at the few comments that came back his way about his so-called "insults". He wasn't small-minded, simply one of many that didn't feel like handing out awards for finding the right Turian with clan marks.

"Yep. Somethin'd be wrong if I didn't."

"Then something's wrong with me, I'll be back in a minute."

Literax stood and opened up his omni=tool, connecting to the extranet and began opening up reports on Palaven, a part of his family was still there, and he liked to know when their cities were still on the map. Nothing much coming through, Reapers might have started blocking their signal a bit more, or they weren't in any position to send out reports, neither of which boded well. He then went through reports for the rest of his known family, a couple probably dead or worse, some transferred, most either MIA or still on the frontlines.

Finishing that, he opened up his own game, Alliance Corsair might be their game, but his was much more involved, and required more minute detail work to get through to the end. A semi-historical account of the Council races rise from invertebrates to Council space and beyond. The Human update had come in a few months ago and he had yet to start a game with them. He'd recently been playing the Salarian campaign, as he'd been feeling like using small strike forces and individuals as opposed to the huge armies of the Turians. He began playing and awaited the arrival of this final companion, Asari, late as they were in any scenario that didn't involve their planet or politics.

 

[Not G. Ivingname]

Spoiler: Lon Klack

Name: Lon Klack

Race: Volus

Class: Engineer

Age: 34

Abilities: Shield Boost, Recon Mine, Proximity Mine, Tactical Cloak.

Equipment: Above listed explosives, (questionably legal) hacking tools, and lots of credits.

Weapons: Ultralight M-25 Hornet, M-6 Carnifex

Appearance: Completely average height for a Volus (I.E. very short), Lon has a very similar pressure suit to most Voluses, colored mostly shades of blue with the normal yellow visor.

Clothing: Due to reliance on shields over armor, his pressure suit in leisure is the same he uses in battle.

Armour: Normal Volus pressure suit. High grade shields

General Bio: Born on the Volus home planet of Irune, Lon was one of several sons born to a high standing merchant family. Seeing that competing for the family fortune would be a pointless endeavor against his 7 brothers, nor would he be able to make his own mark for merchants, Lon joined the Volus Auxiliary troops for the Turians, where he found he was extremely physically fit for a Volus (I.E. he could jog more than 50 meters without collapsing) and had a pension for gadgets and explosives. He quit the Auxiliary, and became a mercenary Private Defense Agent, hiring his rare combinations of inflitration and explosive potential. He became quite famous for being able to dish out a LARGE amount of damage on the battlefield, even if he could take a shot just as well as a sheet of paper.

Lon became well known for being very loyal to the highest bidder, following all orders, never caring who it is or what cause they are fighting for. Gotten fairly wealthy as sides had "bidding wars" in the middle of battles as each side kept offering high prices for Lon's services, most often ending in the loser's death. While he never made many friends with the council, they decided to give a place on the N7 special Ops to Lon, to keep his destrutive power focused on their enemies on not on themselves.

War Record: Has been part of many conflicts, such as the Turian-human war and many a Krogan conflict, sometimes serving both sides when one side started paying better.

Lon walked into through the Citadel, getting odd looks from people that saw on a Volus walking by the barracks. For the most part Lon ignored them, he had been ordered to the Barracks, and was being paid very well to follow orders. It took awhile to get pass the military security, who took a lot of convincing that Lon actually was part of the squad and didn't just hack the system to steal military equipment. Please, it would be much cheaper to get the same stuff off some Batarian pirates then trying to get the equipment needed to hack top level Citadel computer systems.

Finally, Lon walked in, to see a Human, Turians, a Vorcha, and a Quarian. If Lon was anyone else, he would of assumed either he walked into a joke or was hallucinating.

"Sorry I was late," Lon said, with the standard Volus breathing, "The idiot at the desk thought I was either a joke or a thief."

Lon walked over and stood at attention, standing straight up to the level of shorter members waists.

Spoiler: OOC

Sorry, my mistake, changed to reflect that.

 

[Tyrannical]

Spoiler: OOC

Iving, there is one human, two turians, and only the human is an N7. That's a human designation.

Nilus glanced up from his game. "A volus? I was told our weapons supplier was a Quarian. What are you doing here?" he asked.

 

[Ruedyn]

Komma made a few "I could of done that" comments under his breath, before sitting down. He took out his own energy concoction, a foul tasting thing but works well enough, and took a few sips. He noticed everyone else was getting on their omni-tools, and was about to before a volus walked up.
"A volus? We really should've gotten a Krogan. Or three."

 

[Not G. Ivingname]

"A volus? I was told our weapons supplier was a Quarian. What are you doing here?"

"A volus? We really should've gotten a Krogan. Or three."

"Should of expected this," Lon muttered, "Listen, I am NOT your weapons supplier, I am part of your squad."

Lon shook his head. "The name is Lon Klack, it should be listed under 'Engineer/explosive expert.' I was hired to join this squad for my... unique skill set, ask David Thorel."

Spoiler: OCC

Sorry.

 

[Ruedyn]

Spoiler: OOC

And all was fixed, and the murder ninjas left you alone...

Komma sighed at the thing, and decided to try some more biotic practice. He lifted the cup again, slower and more deliberate. He then emptied it and threw it into a recycling bin.
"And nobody get's to say I don't care about our little keepers. They would've had to clean that up, you know."