[h3]Omus Vol; Quartermaster[/h3]

[hider=Appearance][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/OiH5BFY.jpg[/img][/center][/hider]

[center][i]"Just according to vuulnoghd..."[/i]
[sub](translator addendum: vuulnoghd means 'plan')[/sub][/center]

Omus was the Dasher's "quartermaster;" which is a polite way of saying he was a gun runner and profiteer who decided hawking (and, conveniently, growing) his inventory out of a pirate ship was good business.  He is the perfect picture of Volus vice:  A greedy, scheming, self-important opportunist whose loyalty can't be earned -- merely rented.  When the Alliance ambush hit and the evacuation order was given, he was the first to abandon ship.  In fact, he was abandoning ship [i]before[/i] the crew was told to get away.  ...You know, come to think of it, nobody's even sure where he was when that whole thing started.

Despite his self-centered avarice, his seething contempt for the frivolous nature of the "Dash-clan" and his reluctance to get personally involved in anything resembling 'heavy lifting', Vol brought a lot to the table.  In addition to supplying a respectable panoply of arms and equipment, he had a knack for tinkering, frequently working to create new and improved shield, tool and weapon modifications, which he was only too happy to make available to his companions at [i]very little[/i] additional cost.  If he ever does get involved in a firefight, then what he lacks in mobility and speed is made up for in cutting-edge weaponry and disgustingly overpowered personal defences he hasn't bothered to share with anyone else.

In the time since the crew broke up, things have gone better for Vol than they have for even the most fortunate of the others.  In fact, he's now a minor crime lord on Omega, openly peddling high-powered weapons to every side and slowly expanding his territory.  It hasn't been difficult.  As one might expect amongst the seedier, more volatile levels of the station, he's had no shortage of customers.  

Omus harbors a special grudge against Zik, who has an inborn talent for foiling his schemes.  Even today, wheezing, pressure-suited cries of "ZIIIIIIIIIIIK!" can be heard drifting up through the ventilation shafts of Omega's lower levels.  That said: his credits are as good as anyone else's.  Even the best vendettas have to take a back seat to good business, after all.