Jorge never felt content while growing up on Earth due to the lack of independence that Benning provided. Still, he considers Earth to be his birthplace rather than the colony. His grandparents' strict lessons were edged into his brain, leading to him being more tolerated of authority—unlike his father. That attitude changed after his experience on Torfan and the massacre that he saw his fellow soldiers committing. But, he never regretted his time in the Alliance for giving him the tools necessary for life in the Terminus Systems as a hired gun. In addition, his time in the SIED prepared Jorge for a situation like Kingslayer. It would've made sense for C-Sec to enact a ruthless, cold-hearted individual as the lead contract.

Especially if said individual had training in interrogation and undercover work from a respected foreign strategic intelligence agency.

Four years old. That was how old Jorge Henriques was when humanity made contact with life beyond the Sol System. He didn't remember much of it besides his parents getting concerned. And given that they were living in Benning, their concerns were justified with Shanxi being captured by the turians. It wasn't until peace prevailed that there was a sense of normality. But, something in his father changed after that event. He started to resent turians and distrust aliens so much that his wife began to worry. Before she had the chance to confront him about it, tragedy struck.

A significant element zero leak occurred near their apartment and exposed the entire block, giving some of the children biotics. Unfortunately, it also resulted in sudden cardiac arrest with several older individuals. She was among the victims in what officials declared a "terrible accident." But, with the loss of his lover, Jorge's father went deeper into his hatred for aliens as a coping mechanism. Jorge was forced to watch, at a young age, his father's slow decline into conspiracies and other nonsense. His grandparents realized this and fought for custody of their grandson at court.

Thankfully, the court ruled in favor of them, and Jorge moved to Earth at the start of high school. Unfortunately, he lost contact with his father after leaving Benning and never made any attempts. On Earth, he lived a better life in his grandparent's villa in Lisbon and attended the best schools in the country. But instead of going to university, Jorge joined the country's foreign intelligence service and rose through the positions. It wasn't until tensions with the batarians rose that he was transferred over to the Alliance. There he started to develop a talent with the sniper rifle.

Then, the Skyllian Blitz happened. And a few years later, the Alliance launched a major offensive against Torfan in retaliation for Elysium. Jorge witnessed the unmerciful Butcher of Torfan at work, commanding that he and other marines wipe the batarians out. He refused to talk about what took place on that moon and retired from the Alliance shortly after. However, his thirst for warfare and combat never truly left him. Jorge understood that C-Sec wasn't ever going to be enough to be satisfied. So instead, he became a hired gun for the various mercenary groups.

But, it was the Blue Suns that provided Jorge with a sturdy source of credits and work. Hell, he was starting to like it. But then, he vanished shortly after being contracted out of the blue from an anonymous source. Nobody understood why he ran into hiding, but that wasn't the truth. Jorge knew that the source was legitimate after it mentioned his work during SIED on Earth. So, he gathered his things and departed for the location that the contract gave out. It was at the Citadel and inside the luxurious Presidium, which was rather unusual to meet someone until he saw both Executor Pallin and Ambassador Udina in the same room.

Then, everything began to make sense. Pallin didn't reveal much about the assignment, but he didn't need to after learning about the Council's involvement. And it wasn't like that Jorge could've refused their request unless he wanted to see what they were willing to do.

So, he accepted their offer on the condition that he personally chose who was going to be on Kingslayer.

Lantea is a walking stereotype of a young asari. Cocky, brash, loud and confident at times to the point of arrogance in everything from her skills to her appearance, this is topped off by a moral compass that’s off by a degree or two. Despite this, although she’d rather die than admit it, she cares about those around her once she gets to know them, readily putting her attitude aside when it can solve a problem. Given her young age and the corresponding lack of experience, for an Asari that is, Lantea has a bad habit of dismissing good-natured advice and diving into things head first instead. The reason she’s still alive and with all four limbs attached, even after three decades of reckless mercenary work, is a combination of dumb luck, largely unappreciated help from her peers and the fact that she is both a decently powerful biotic and actually quite good at fighting, something that continually fuels her already massive ego.

Lantea was born in Saefos Valley on Illium to a turian member of a small mercenary team and an asari corporate lawyer. Her father, still an adventurous spirit in her golden years, left early in her life and never returned, leaving her with no recollection of her. Raised solely by her mother, Lantea was exposed to the corporate world from an early age, and found it rotten all the way to its stinking core. While she hated it, she got useful lessons in dealing with various species, body language basics, a few useful contacts and a decent idea about several Terminus criminal groups and their activities out of it, as well as an interest in other cultures. Unsurprisingly, the more her mother pushed her into this disgusting swamp, the more she fought to escape it, creating a rift between the two. Lantea even purposefully failed law school in favor of pursuing tech education to spite her. At the height of their divide, Lantea began modelling herself after her father, all the way to wearing face paint copied from her picture for a short time, much to her mother’s dismay.

One day in 2151 at her club of choice, Lantea ran into a collection of malcontents who were in the process of forming a mercenary band and needed an armorer. The crowd sat right with her, so she packed what she had and kissed Illium a sweet goodbye. Of course with her only knowledge of her father coming from a few mentions by her mother and a single picture, she didn’t exactly get it right. Where her father preferred the target notice she was there the day after the job was done, Lantea found the direct approach much more reliable and less time consuming. The group went on to become somewhat known throughout the Attican Traverse, gaining some experience and a decent amount of credits, enough for Lantea to buy several suits of armor as tech progressed over the years and transform them to her liking.

Though made up of a few dozen of questionable individuals similar to Lantea herself, they were good enough to survive their jobs and smart enough to keep their activities mostly legal and not to piss on the chips of any of the major Terminus mercenary organizations or the Systems Alliance once they established a presence across the Traverse. The band eventually formed two groups as members aged and left, one preferring a controlled approach, the other opting for a more aggressive stance. Remembering the divide between her and her mother, Lantea set her attitude aside and tried to mend the rift before it tore the band apart, but the minds of turians and salarians did not seem compatible with batarians and krogan, not to mention the humans who were more often than not incompatible with each other. Seeing no alternative, Lantea bode her comrades a sour farewell in late 2181 and left the band on good terms before things could take a turn for the worst.

Having left the group behind, Lantea turned to freelancing, moving from the Traverse and into Alliance space proper, where driving back and in some cases hunting down batarian raiding parties proved to be a constant source of employment. In early 2183, she and the colony that hired her at the time got tangled with a slaver ring large enough to draw the ire of the Alliance directly, and her involvement there eventually led to her name appearing on the Kingslayer candidates list.

Liyah is a woman who wants to live life to the beat of her own drum. She tries to make acquaintances, not connections, and chafes at the idea of strings attached to her dealings with people. Her speech is informal, her relationships are casual, and her wanderlust is eternal; most of her life has consisted of meandering along a string of opportunities that seemed intriguing at the time but quickly grew stale. If something begins to sound and feel like commitment, she begins to subconsciously look for the exit sign.

The same can be said for her professionally. Her time with the Corsairs has taught her the meaning of expendable resources, and left her with one of her few deeply-held beliefs: that everyone sees each other as expendable. Though she probably wouldn't consider herself an example - or, more likely, she doesn't think about her own behavior deeply enough to really dwell on it - she exhibits this particular selfishness when things get tough. She has quite an aversion to snitching or brokering deals at the expense of others, but this loyalty only really extends when she's put under pressure by things she considers higher authorities. Instead of betrayal, she prefers escape. She has a knack for survival situations and talking herself out of certain permanent survival alternatives, and is skilled at overselling her value when in need of shelter or underselling it in order to appear innocent. Such innocent manipulation is characteristic of her, but it is genuinely done as a habit and without malice - whether that makes it better or worse is up to the person interacting with her.

But when Liyah can't talk, she's more than capable of vanishing. She does have concern for others, but it's usually fleeting; if someone isn't willing to take the chance to flee with her when they have the chance, she's usually not going to offer a second one. She always intends to be the one alive to tell the tale, which she will often do with heavy embellishment after the fact.

These self-centered, manipulative traits paint a negative picture of a woman, but much of Liyah's effectiveness comes from the fact that she's not an unpleasant person to be around. In fact, the opposite is true, as many of the ties Liyah has tried to escape from over the years were forged by people who found her enthralling enough to get close and raise her hackles. She is charismatic and quick-witted, always primed with a joke or one of the many factoids about human or alien cultures she aimlessly clicks through on the extranet in her off hours. During her youth - and even as a Corsair - she was often the mysterious benefactor behind much of the smuggled alcohol or recreational drugs that comprised the entertainment of parties, and she still keeps an itemized list of some of her favorite contemporary music in her head. If she can't find a party, one will usually form around her - although she'll also be one of the first ones to leave the scene, especially if higher authority rolls through.

Her skill with people helps ingratiate her in most social or group dynamics, and she provides a font of empathy for those in need of advice or grappling with doubts. This empathy is more than capable of being compartmentalized in order to protect herself, however. She refuses to let the problems of others, or others' problems with her, harm her emotionally, and is quick to remind people which certain uncomfortable topics are not her business.

Liyah was born on Terra Nova before it was Terra Nova. At the time of her birth, the second and final child of two adventurous colonists, the quiet heart of the Exodus Cluster was but a first uncertain step for humanity at large. She was part of her species' first generation to spend its formative years outside its home solar system, and the same joie de vivre and desire to live ten lifetimes in the span of one possessed Liyah - still going by her given name, Lorena, in those early days of her life - the same way it had her parents. In her early childhood, this manifested as the usual childhood misadventures, but as she grew into adolescence, her mischief similarly blossomed into the much more daring, much more stupid escapades of teenagers testing the boundaries of society for the first time. She was the cornerstone of many a school prank or failed relationship in her teens, and as the Terra Novan capital of Scott began to blossom into a true metropolis, Lorena began to spend less of her time focusing on the future and more time drowning in the various distractions available to her.

By now, the kernel of dissatisfaction at her life path had bubbled over into resentment at what she saw as stagnation. On the surface, she was doing everything right; she had gotten herself into a prominent tech academy on Terra Nova, on the fast track towards success in one of the corporations capitalizing on the recent platinum boom in her home planet of Terra Nova. She found the idea distasteful, though - cementing herself on her homeworld and watching her life go by had been anathema to her own parents, so why were they trying to pigeonhole her down that path? She found the recent colonization boom on Bekenstein slightly more compelling, in a get-rich-quick scheme sort of way, but in the end even that was just the same corporate anchor on a different planet. To Liyah - the abbreviation of her middle name she now answered to almost exclusively - it was starting from square one, not a fresh start. So she went through the motions of her classes, grades slowly plummeting, while waiting for the perfect opportunity to knock.

She may have waited forever if not for the Blitz. In the aftermath of a pirate attack on Elysium, the Systems Alliance began an aggressive recruiting drive, touting the vigor and benefits of a life in the military. Vignettes of paradises such as Elysium and Eden Prime were also used, to lure in prospective recruits with tantalizing visions of the 'good life,' or at least a daring life exploring the stars beyond Citadel space. To Liyah, a better opportunity seemed unlikely to fall into her lap, and her eyes were admittedly swimming with the visions of a life where she would never be bored again. So she enlisted, one of thousands taken in by the promises of the vids.

Perhaps they came true for the rest of the recruits, but unfortunately for Liyah, someone had bothered to look at her technical aptitude tests - which she had, in a desperate effort to show her worth, decided to take seriously for once. Perhaps she had done her job too well, because she quickly found herself a systems analyst shackled to Arcturus Station. Besides Earth itself, Arcturus was the seat of Alliance power, and to many it would seem like a prestigious posting. But to Liyah, who felt she had been promised a life outside of simple Alliance comfort, the post felt like a death sentence. For months, she planned against cyberattacks that never came and updated systems long neglected by Alliance Parliament, its budget, and its political constraints. Underpaid and overworked, it became harder and harder for Liyah to keep her once-buoyant attitude afloat at all.

One night, tinkering around at her workstation to amuse herself, Liyah stumbled across a minor security blip on a parliamentary system. The Arcturus network had flagged a set of financial transactions directly from an MP to an unrecognized party - small amounts, but all placed simultaneously, broken up in an attempt to avoid notice. If the unwitting MP had simply bided his time between payments, it likely would have gone unnoticed forever; as it was, the computer only wanted a simple confirmation that Arcturus security had not been breached. Of course, it hadn't, so Liyah allowed the payments to go through - but to someone who would find a much, much better use for the money than the parliamentary mistress that inevitably came forward when her hush payments never arrived.

The theft had lit a fire under Liyah, and what's more, it had enlightened her - not only did the men wielding most of the political and military might of the Alliance not understand the tools that governed all their lives, but she did. She had no interest in selling state secrets to alien bodies or leaking anything to the press, but if they had all this money they were capable of handing out to secretaries and actresses, why should she feel guilty about making off with some of it for herself? It even had all the thrill and unpredictability she had even enlisted in the Alliance for, and so for the rest of 2077 she would occasionally use her security clearance and adjust certain purchases on networked extranet terminals, or perhaps divert some money from a proposed budget into her own pocket. Having learned from her unfortunate "mentor" in money laundering, she made sure to break up the payments and disguise them as expenditures for necessary supplies or public events. She was good at doing it, she was good at covering her tracks, she was making bank and she was having fun. She might have gone on with it forever if she could have.

Unfortunately for her, a freak twist of fate, much like the one that had brought her into the Alliance military, served as a second bookend for her time at Arcturus. The Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy, in an attempt at mutual goodwill, had begun development on a new class of frigate together, marrying the best of each military in an attempt to incorporate humanity further into the galactic community. Arcturus Station was the staging ground for this project, and though she knew little and cared less about the ultimate result of the project, she knew that the expenditures necessary to host turian engineers and soldiers on Arcturus, even temporarily, would be a great place for her to hide some paychecks. Her first such attempt, embezzling an amount of credits slightly more reckless than her usual amounts, was under the guise of special expenditures for massive amounts of dextro-amino protein food.

But the turians found themselves embroiled in some last-minute Council red tape, and their small delegation's initial trip to Arcturus found itself postponed by months. They didn't arrive, and neither did their food. But the Alliance had noticed they had footed the bill for it anyway.

By the time Liyah realized she was caught, it was too late to do much about her situation. Her work history was looked into and credits found, and she was stripped of rank and sent to an Alliance military prison, where she languished for several months, miserable and alone. But the rays of fortune turned on her again in the next year, 2078, with the raid on Torfan.

A brutal raid undertaken by the Alliance there had served its primary purpose - retaliatory measures against the batarians who many found responsible for the Skyllian Blitz. However, with the flight of the batarians from Council space, the Alliance realized it had only left the job half done - many of the pirate interests behind the Blitz, batarian or otherwise, had been armed with deep pockets - and most of that money was still out there. The Alliance had found little evidence of financiers from the Terminus Systems or Batarian Hegemony on Torfan, and after Torfan it was increasingly politically difficult for the Alliance to ensure its enemies couldn't fund a bloodier sequel to the Blitz. So, reluctantly, it turned to a clever money launderer they knew they had on hand.

Liyah was offered what the Alliance described as a sweetheart deal - she would be sprung from military prison and released on her own recognizance, but her service to the Alliance was far from over. She would serve as a Corsair, an initiative by the Alliance to store unscrupulous or problem soldiers under independent starship captains, to do jobs the Alliance refused to commit to record. She would be stationed on crews such as these indefinitely, until the Alliance felt she had worked off enough of her initial sentence to be given an OTH discharge - other than honorable, which, far from honorable, was at least not a life-altering kick in the ass from the military. Unwilling to waste the rest of her youth, Liyah did what she had done when recruitment was dangled in front of her - jumped at the chance, unsure if she would see another as good.

Unlike Arcturus, for the most part, Liyah loved being a Corsair. It was a badass title, for one, and she found a freedom under starship captains that she'd never known in Arcturus or even as a gifted student on Terra Nova. She served on two ships over the next few years, the Tin Hau and the Gungnir, investigating post-Elysium and Torfan financial transactions on behalf of major suspected batarian terror financiers, as well as connections to the disgraced pirate lord Elanos Haliat, Omega, or other Terminus System interests. Each ship found her service exemplary and was sad to see her go. But each transfer came as the feeling of being under the gun from the Alliance had begun to grow overwhelming, and at a point when Liyah was finding less satisfaction in doing dirty work around people who had begun to know her a little too deeply.

For the past eighteen months, Liyah Negasi has served ably onboard her third vessel as a Corsair, the Jannah, investigating reports of renewed Eclipse financial activity in the area of black market bio-mods. Now another transfer order has come in - not to a ship, but to the Citadel, gleaming white heart of the galaxy, and with an assignment that comes tailored to the bright, disaffected young woman's skill set - larger and livelier than Arcturus, with all the uncertainty of being a Corsair and the certainty of her own talents. She jumped at the transfer order.

Not that she has any choice.

At first glance, Arty might seem like a friendly if slightly boastful Scot with an inclination for puffing on cigars and enjoying a good sparring match. And while Arty is indeed all of those things, his career has made him far more observant than he appears. A useful skill to have in the world of private security and investigation. Arty's friendly nature also lends itself to social situations and his less than stellar background has given him experience navigating the criminal world as well as the ones that saintly law abiding citizens live in.

However he does have a bit of a nasty inferiority complex, which is why he's in the private sector now and lord knows his temper has costed him a contract or too. Arty cannot stand those who talk down to him in any way and will gladly take some time to set the record straight with the offending individual. More often than not in a violent manner. Despite this, he cares deeply for the people whom he considers friends and will go out of his way to protect those who are innocent in his eyes.

Arthur Kirk Dow was born on May 12, 2157 on a small farm just a few miles outside of Saint Abbs, Scotland. His family, which consisted of his father and two sisters, raised a variety of animals but primarily included sheep. Arthur had a relatively normal childhood, the life of a scottish farm boy wasn't too bad. Even from a young age, he liked to scrap with the other kids. Especially the ones who made fun of him for being a farmer, or having less money. He liked to bloody their noses real good. But his whole life would change when at age 13 on a routine visit to the doctor, he was discovered to have biotic potential.

Arty was given the choice between toiling away as a farm boy for the rest of his life or learn to lift objects with his mind and travel the stars. Images of the richer kids sneering at him flashed through his mind. It wasn't much of a choice at all, really. Arty left Earth and trained with the Systems Alliance military, learning to control his newfound power. It wasn't easy but Arty had a certain hunger that the other biotic kids didn't. He especially excelled in the martial arts portions of his training, combining his biotics and knowledge of fighting to turn into a devastating force of nature even as a teenager. He completed his training at age 17, being formally transitioned into the military as an Ensign. A little young, but the alliance military had already sunk 4 years of training into Arty and they wanted to make it count.

Arty spent the next two years shadowing his superiors, learning about ships and warfare. Occasionally they even let him go on a patrol. He was restless, ready to fight. He spent long hours training, trying to work off the aggression that the alliance nurtured in him. Then the Skyllian Blitz happened and Arty got the action he so craved. The ship he was serving on responded to the distress call and they jumped from a nearby system directly into the fight. It was the first time he had seen any real combat, firing at pirate cruisers soaring past their ship. He was able to shoot down half a dozen ships that day and was promoted to Lieutenant, Junior Grade for his effort. In Arty's mind, this was the real start of his career.

He spent the next few years jumping between campaigns, hunting down the pirates that attacked Elysium. He was transferred to a marine shock unit as a biotic warrior and truly learned the meaning of fighting in the frontline, covered in dirt, piss, and blood. It was in these close fights with the batarians where Arty really developed his style of fusing biotic power and martial arts together. At the end of 2178, Arty is promoted to Lieutenant and is assigned as the executive officer of a reconnaissance company conducting operations at the edge of the Attican Traverse. The missions the company conducted were some of the most dangerous Arty had been on. In deep space and far away from any Alliance reinforcements, he came to rely on his men immensely, as he knew they relied on him.

Then one mission went bad. Just one misstep by the commanding officer and BOOM. The CO's head was on the floor and Arty was suddenly in charge of getting them off planet alive. But they were surrounded and upon radioing command, they informed him that he had received a battlefield promotion to Lieutenant Commander. Not that he would be alive to enjoy the promotion much longer. But somehow, through quick thinking, extremely violent means, and sheer luck, Arty and the majority of his men managed to get off world and escape the system. They returned back to alliance space after a long tour to receive awards. They were survivors, heroes. But as Lieutenant Commander Arthur Dow stood at attention to receive his medal, the admiral pinning it on him said to no one in particular.

"You know, if the command team didn't have some country bumpkin leading the way, more marines would have made it out alive."

Then before Arty knew it, he had blasted the admiral across the room and was being wrestled to the ground by security. They threw him in the brig for a few months to let him stew. The admiral had a dozen broken ribs but survived. Which was frankly a miracle. Arty figured it was over for him. A stunt like that was an easy twenty years in a military prison. But it seemed he had some friends in high places and maybe just a little luck, because all they did was kick him out with nothing but a now useless rank and the power crush someone's skull with his bare hands.

So what was a guy to do? Arty started doing bodyguard work all over the galaxy, high risk clients that paid big. Not as much action as when he was in the military but maybe it was better that way. Eventually he started branching into private investigation. That's how he started working with C-Sec on the citadel. Now, they didn't necessarily like him but they couldn't deny he had a knack for cracking skulls and an eye for overlooked details. And Arty found that he was relying more on them too as his clientele got increasingly pompous and condesending, Arty found it harder to get work. People tend to not want to hire the person that kicks them into the pool. So Arty was pleasantly surprised when the job offer for a fancy taskforce showed up in his inbox. With a cool name as well, Kingslayer. Hell, he might just have to join.

Key was never suited for Migrant Fleet life. It was too stifling, too crowded, too focused on survival rather than living. She yearned for freedom, for doing things for pleasure rather than because the scrap heap they called a ship required it. Stories and dances offered brief escapes, but they became so frequent an escape that they eventually only served to even further remind her of her problems. Now that she's finally free of the constraints of the migrant fleet, Key is able to live the life she always dreamed of.

As a result, Key is an impulsive, materialistic, and somewhat selfish person, living by her passions. She does things for the thrill of it, and keeps things for little more than she thought they were pretty. Her emotions tend to be fiery and high, and she exhibits little control over them at any given moment. Her motivations are rarely beyond 'I want to own or do that thing' or 'I think it'll be fun.'

She's an adrenaline junky, doing things because she thinks she'll enjoy them or they’ll give her a thrill. This has developed into a gambling addiction that has usually kept her out of credits and constantly looking for more, as she always swears that the next few credits bet will be the big one and she’ll win it all.

With time, or guidance, she may temper her high emotions and excitability with wisdom, but for now she remains as she is: passionate and tempestuous.

Key is a fidgety person (always seeming to be 'Keyed up' hence her nickname), always eager to be moving and exploring new areas. After being trapped on her homeship the Gazan for 16 years, she's developed a strong sense of wanderlust and curiosity, never liking staying in one place for too long. She spent far too much time doing that during her time on the Flotilla. She's always eager to meet new people, and experience new things (As much as she can. Obviously a lot of things are off limits given how they'll kill her). That being said, her time on Omega has tempered her slightly. New experiences aren't always safe. New people, while interesting and exciting to talk to, aren't always good people. She's always prepared for that new person to be yet another regurgitator of the same old disparaging remarks (or try to rob, harm, or manipulate her in some way).

She's heard all the insults. 'Suit-Rat'. 'Beggar'. 'Thief'. She's determined to prove these people wrong, be it through interacting with them (likely through arguing once they rile her all to easily triggered anger) or doing jobs for or with them. She constantly feels like she has to prove herself to these people and others around them, to unravel the Quarian reputation as best she can.

Her time on Omega has hardened her. She often won't go to help anyone unless it benefits her in some way, for one too many times she's had her kindness and trust manipulated. She trusts only a select few, and her empathy for others extends a limited amount to whatever team she happens to be working with, and fully only to select friends. She's never very relaxed, a side effect of her brush with death. She's always ready to move in an instant, afraid of being caught off guard again.

Another side-effect of her brush with death is a phobia of Varren. Key has a deep, instinctual, terror of the Varren. The sight of them is enough to make her start hyperventilating, and if one gets too close she'll panic completely. Given how closely Varren, Vorcha, and Krogan are associated with one another, this extends to a lesser degree to Krogan and Vorcha. She gets nervous and even more twitchy around Krogan and Vorcha, expecting a Varren to leap out of the shadows at their command any second.

And beneath all of that, Key is a sappy romantic at heart. She believes in things like love at first sight, that love can conquer all, and that everyone has a soulmate. She's more or less certain that for herself such a romance is impossible (given that she's a Quarian who has abandoned the Fleet) but knows that for everyone else, destiny will bring them together with their soulmates and true loves.

All in all, Key is just living her life to the fullest, embracing thrills she thought she'd never get a chance at.

She’s the perfect candidate for Operation Kingslayer, as her tempestuous nature and lack of reserve makes it incredibly easy to blame her for anything and everything if the operation goes wrong and she's willing to go to almost any length to get the jobs she is hired for done.

Born in 2158 Key has always been trouble for her ship. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father died defending the ship soon after when some spacers went back on their deal with the quarians and attacked. Taken in by a family that didn't have a child of their own, Keeto'Godda vas Gazan and Shia'Godda vas Gazan, Key never really felt like she belonged on the Gazan. Her foster parents were nice, but not her own flesh and blood, and they were all too happy to stay in one place for all their lives. She was always yearning to be somewhere else, to have her own space, to do something other than survive. She wanted to have things because they brought her pleasure, not just because they were effective and useful.

She wanted to explore the galaxy without being chased out of every sector by some corporation or government that viewed them as parasites. She wanted to have her own space and do things for fun rather than try and keep herself surviving so the future of her race can survive. She would be constantly reprimanded for misuse of materials and time, pursuing trivial things when she should have been preparing for her Pilgrimage or helping keep the ship running.

She would spend hours, days, weeks or occasionally even months downloading things from the outside universe onto her datapad. The Fleet’s extranet was, to put it politely, absolute garbage, so opportunities to quickly download and see what the rest of the universe was like were few and far inbetween. Key cherished these opportunities and every little piece she could get of the outside universe, as they reminded her of what she could experience when sent on her Pilgrimage. She would come home, of course, but only after experiencing what the universe had to offer.

The only times her interests and the desires of the Fleet met was when she was learning the ship was flown and working on its flight systems or when she was helping create fabrics for the suits they were all required to wear. Something about the possibility of freedom and flying through space with nothing more than a desire to explore and a ship was enthralling to her, and she had a steady hand and a creative streak making her designs both sound and interesting. She was consistently top of her class in the piloting training they were all given in preparation for their pilgrimage, and nothing delighted her more than pretending to be behind the controls of her own ship.

By the time her Pilgrimage had come (at age 16, early by her own constant insistence), Key could barely contain her excitement. Finally, finally she could experience what the galaxy had to offer and all the joys it could bring. Her first two years free in space only confirmed that the universe was everything she had hoped it would be. There was so much space! So many things to do! She didn’t have to share a room with anyone unless she so desired! It took some getting used to, the space and the silence of well running ships, but once she stopped being uncomfortable about how well run the rest of the galaxy was, she loved it. Towards the end of her second year, Key realized that she hadn’t even thought about her pilgrimage. Hadn’t even thought about what she would do to go back to the Fleet, or even if she would go back to the fleet. And that was...okay. She didn’t need to go home. Home was just more arguing and more people clinging to dead traditions. She didn’t want to go home.

Drawn by the rumors of how wild and lawless Omega was, Key made her way through the terminus systems towards the asteroid.

This was a mistake.

Within the first week of being in Omega, Key had her small shuttle that the Fleet had given her for her Pilgrimage stolen, along with all of her credits and nearly her life if she hadn’t managed to fight off her attackers. It would not get better in her first year. She was robbed over a dozen times and what credits she didn’t lose through force, someone would swindle her out of through clever words and feigned kindness. People would attack her simply because she was a Quarian, because she had walked in the wrong area, or because they were bored. To survive, Key had to become stronger and colder. She upgraded her armor with the blades that she had seen on batarians around the station, making it dangerous for people to grab her. She avoided eye contact and kept moving no matter who called out to her or what they said. She kept herself armed and was always ready to use it at the slightest provocation. Eventually Key stopped being a victim. She didn’t thrive in Omega, no one who wasn’t Aria did, but she was no longer a target for whomever wanted to attack her. Still, she needed credits to buy a shuttle to go back to exploring a less terrible place of the galaxy. Not a lot of honest jobs were available on Omega, and even less that wanted a ‘suit-rat’.

Eventually she landed a job with what seemed like the only honest person on Omega. A turian by the name of Zertus, owner of a private ship repair yard. In return for two years of her service, Zertus would give her a derelict shuttle that she could repair in her free time.

Everything she could learn about the turian seemed to be trustworthy. He never double crossed customers or slacked on work. He always held up his end of bargains, even when it was to his loss. Warily, Key agreed to the job.

Also working for Zertus was a human named Tyler. Tyler was dressed more strangely than any human she had ever seen. Decked out in leather and spikes, with a bright green mohawk. He had a magnetism that Key couldn't seem to shake, a way about him that made her want to listen to him. Inevitably drawn in through curiosity of his attire and charismatic personality Key found herself spending more and more time with him. He was one of the few people who didn't seem to judge her for being a quarian, and actually cared for what her thoughts and personality was. Tyler had been born a spacer and left to start his career as a galactic music star, before the cruel realities of life set in and crushed his dreams underfoot. A string of poor choices and failed starts had led him to Omega. He was now working for Zertus just to live, playing his music on the side sometimes.

Through this day in day out interaction, Key was introduced to the human culture of 'Punk' and fell in love with it. Perhaps it was because of the emphasis on personal freedom, the way she could easily accessorize and stylize her suit with it, the loud aggressive music, or all three, but she embraced the culture of it wholeheartedly. With the way Tyler treated her and made her feel special, it wasn't long before she became infatuated with him. True romance was impossible, of course, but she could dream. She would spend as much time as possible with him, learning music from him as best she could. He was the one who gave her the nickname 'Key' in reference to how excitable and fidgety she was. She embraced the nickname with great joy. Infatuated as she was, Key ignored Zertus’s warnings about Tyler as a person, and the various signs that he was simply manipulating her for his benefit. She loved him, and in time, he would love her.

On the side she would participate in vehicle races around Omega, racing through the streets in vehicles of questionable safety for prizes of credits. The thrill of speeding through tight turns and at dangerous speeds made Key feel more alive than she ever had. The credits were nice too. To get into these races, often run by the local gangs, Key would bet her own credits and free servicing of her opponent’s vehicles if she lost. Key was a skilled driver, and she very rarely lost. Much to the anger or chagrin of her opponents. Key never showed weakness or fear to them. She had learned from her first time in Omega, and knew better than to let herself become a victim.

Tyler was never there to see her race, always busy with another gig or job for Zertus, but he would always be there to celebrate with her when she won, helping her decide where to spend a portion of her winnings on the celebratory party and on what they should be spent on.

This was how Key was introduced to gambling, and she was immediately hooked. A great deal of what credits Zertus paid her and the winnings from her racing were sank into the local clubs and casinos of Omega, with little to no return. Key kept going back, swearing upon everything that this bet was going to be the winner. Tyler was always by her side, egging her on and sharing in her winnings.

A year passed like this, and it was the first good times since she left the Migrant Fleet two years ago. Her relationship with Tyler was the highlight of her time (even if it wasn't as romantic as she'd like), and Zertus was an honest turian who kept up his side of the bargain and ensured that she was taken care of while working for him. Her ship was ready to fly, all she needed to do was finish her contract with Zertus and then she could start exploring the galaxy again at her leisure. To her surprise however, Zertus fired Tyler after this year. She never figured out why, but given the angry look on Zertus' face, and the way he warned her to stay away from Tyler for the rest of her life, it must have been something that the turian thought was very bad. But it was Tyler, her one true friend in Omega. She made plans to meet up with him later, to help plan to mend whatever had happened between him and Zertus.

So imagine her shock that when she met up with Tyler that night, he told her he had been fired because he had found out that Zertus was planning on selling her ship, and had spoken out against it. Fearing he would tell her, Tyler claimed Zertus fired him and forbade him from coming anywhere near the shop again. At first she refused to believe it, everything Zertus had ever shown her and done to her was of an honest turian that wouldn't betray her like that. Plus, several of Tyler’s details were inconsistent or flat out didn’t add up.

But it was Tyler, the one who had always treated her like an equal and paid attention to her ideas and plans, and when he produced a bill of sale, the kind she had seen hundreds of time of the last year and a half, with her ship on it and some stranger's name as the one owning it, she had to finally accept the truth. She was hurt, and angry. So angry that she missed the inconsistencies in the document. So angry that when Tyler told her they should steal the ship before Zertus could sell it, with any supplies they could steal from the old turian, she agreed without a second thought.

The theft didn't go quite as planned, them tripping an alarm almost as soon as they tried to break and being forced to grab whatever they thought looked useful, but they managed to get the ship up and gone before Zertus and whatever force he could bring to bear to stop them. Excited that they were going to finally explore the galaxy and elated they had gotten away with it, Key and Tyler blasted punk rock music as they flew away from Omega. Tyler dubbed the small ship the Freedom, as that was what it had given them.

Another year would pass, with the two of them doing odd jobs (usually light mercenary work) around the Terminus systems. Life wasn't always comfortable for the two of them, given how they were in no way prepared for the costs a ship would have and were always on the brink of financial collapse (in no small part due to Key’s gambling addiction), but they had fun. Key was becoming more and more infatuated with Tyler, and this culminated in her declaring that her name was now Keesin'Godda vas Freedom and Tyler was her crew, the most important person in the galaxy to her. She saw a brief look of shock, annoyance and disgust, quickly masked by gracious acceptance, but dismissed it as a trick of the eyes.

Soon after that, and a particularly long dry period without jobs, with their credits running low and their fuel running even lower, Tyler came up with another daring plan. They would go to Omega and rob one of the gangs there, stealing some equipment to sell and a better ship to explore with. Key agreed, and they set their course for Omega once more.

On the way there Tyler decided that they would hit the Ragers. A gang that was made up of rejects from the Blood Pack, he reasoned it would be relatively simple to sneak in past their stupid Vorcha and dull Krogan to snatch a ship and equipment from right under their noses.

The plan was simple, Key would cause a distraction and Tyler would use the distraction to snag a ship and what equipment he could, then come pick her up at a docking pay so they could once again get the hell out of Omega.

It went to shit almost immediately.

Key wasn't equipped to deal with a three Vorcha, a Krogan, and a pack of four Varren. While her grenade was enough to kill the Vorcha and one of the Varren, it had little to no effect on the Krogan. Upon seeing something of that size charge her with murderous intent in his eyes, Key panicked. She fired off a submission net, immobilizing the monster, and ran for it. She managed to keep her head long enough to inform Tyler that she couldn't keep the distraction going as long as needed, and he reassured her that it was fine, that he was already in. All she had to do now was get to a safe spot and wait for his call.

Ducking into an alleyway, Key paused to catch her breath and gain her bearings, so she could accurately respond to Tyler's call. While she was attempting to figure out where in Omega she was, the three Varren caught up to her. All Key had in warning was a snarl before an impossibly heavy body slammed into her chest, and powerful jaws crushed into her suit's shoulder. She screamed, instinctively firing her pistol into the creature's body. As it slumped off of her, she scrambled backwards in a panic, desperately trying to activate her blades. The yellow spikes came up just in time to stop another pair of jaws from crushing her skull, causing the beast to recoil with a howl of pain. She fired wildly in a panic again, killing the Varren.

Pulling herself to her feet, breathing ragged and raw, she aimed her pistol at the last one as it prepared to charge her. Click. Key didn't have the time to feel despair as the Varren crashed into her, knocking her to the ground, jaws only barely being held back by her failing shields and omni-blades. She could practically hear her shields cracking, and flicked open her omni-blade and stabbed recklessly in desperation. She's fairly certain she nicked herself more than once, but that doesn't matter. She killed the Varren right as her shields broke, the feeling of it's jaws stopping their pressure around her throat just before they punctured her suit haunting her nightmares to this day.

Pulling herself up, her shoulder a mess of blood and agony, she made a call to Tyler for help, telling him what happened. No reply. Telling herself to relax, to calm down, she tried again. And again. And again. After an indeterminable amount of time, she realized he wasn't going to reply. Either he was dead or...no. Tyler wouldn't just abandon her. He was dead. The Ragers had killed him. That was the truth. It had to be. She desperately tried to ignore the flood of memories and warning signs she should have seen before now.

Key knew she needed to move, and began stumbling through the streets of Omega. She doesn't remember much of that time. Flashes of pain and blood, terror that whatever bacteria or diseases resided in a Varren's mouth was going to kill her, and a single, fervent desire to survive. Somehow she managed to make her way into a clinic, for the next thing she knew she was awake in a white, sterile, room. Her shoulder hurt but wasn't in agony any more. The doctor, a turian, reassured her that she was okay. She had been out for more than a week, as her body struggled to fight off the infections the Varren bite had given her, aided by the strongest immuno boosters and antibiotics they had. Key gave them the last credits she had, and promised to stick around and help them with anything they needed to pay off the rest.

A deal was struck, giving Key a small sense of relief. She was alive, at least, even if she was back right where she started. Despite all odds, Key found herself enjoying her time at the clinic. Helping people for a change, rather than waiting for them to turn on her, was nice. Surprisingly, she enjoyed helping people. Maybe it was the feeling of saving beings' lives, or proving to them that she was more than just a thieving suit-rat, or maybe she just enjoyed having a dedicated purpose after wandering the galaxy and nearly dying. Regardless, she applied herself with a will to the clinic. Seeing how eager she was to learn and help, the doctor soon had her making runs with the clinic's medical vehicle and repairing any equipment that broke down. The clinic worked primarily for a mercenary group, The Thirty Blades, that protected it in exchange for the clinic patching up any members that were injured for free.

Seeing her way out of Omega, Key signed on with the Blades. It didn’t take long for her to prove her worth, as her technological expertise, piloting and driving skill, and ever growing combat skills proved invaluable to the group. It's been five years since she nearly died and joined up with the Blades. She's sharpened her skills in fighting and built her XO suit in that time, determined to never be put in that situation she had been in with the Varren again.

She's built a reputation as a skilled pilot and driver and a competent mercenary whose willing to do nearly any job and will see it to the end no matter the cost.

The idea that Tyler may have just abandoned her never truly left her, but she buried it as deeply as she could. He couldn't have just left her. He couldn't have. The fact that she had never heard of his death or found a body gnaws at her confidence in the matter, however, keeping her from fully laying it to rest. Rather than address her problems, Key distracts herself from them. When she isn't doing her mercenary work, she's betting her credits in various forms of gambling. Some people turn to alcohol for their problems, Key turns to the rush of everything depending on one random roll.

She intends to save up enough credits to buy her own small ship and go exploring the galaxy again, but every time she gets any amount of credits she can't fight the urge to take it and bet it all away (something she feels extremely guilty for, but can't stop). She's never won, but she's always drawn back by the slight chance she could win back all the credit's she's lost, and then some.

She was recently contacted for Operation Kingslayer. They claim they hired her for her skill in piloting and driving and her record of successfully completing missions no matter what obstacles get in her way.

In reality, she also makes a perfect deniable agent. Her history of merc work, her status as a Quarian , and even her personality all make for excellent things to make it look like she acted on her own should things all go wrong.

Appearance: Standing at 5ft 7in (1.7 meters) and decked out in as much customization as she can add to her suit, Key tends to attract even more attention than the average Quarian does. She embraces this, always making sure her suit is as clean as it can possibly be with her spikes shining and her leather belts oiled to perfection. In general Key takes great pride in her appearance, always on the look out for things she can further customize her suit with. She moves and acts like she has something to prove, almost always seeming to somehow have her shoulders squared and her chest puffed out, ready to defend herself against some disparaging remark or outright physical violence. Life is not kind in the Terminus systems, least of all to Quarians by themselves.

If you look closely you can see where her enviro-suit has been repaired on her left shoulder. It mirrors scars beneath, and is the result of a near death experience. Because of that Key is always ready to move in an instant. She never comes across as fully relaxed, even when she's somewhere safe, always appearing tense and in a hurry to be somewhere else, usually playing with something (typically a hand puzzle) to occupy herself.

Key can play the drums and is fairly good at them. She has a set in her apartment on Omega.

Key loves the human punk culture, and has a playlist of their heavy rock songs queued up and ready to go at any time.

Key is an avid follower of Clawball and Biotiball, frequently betting on the outcomes of those games.

Key has a collection of useless things that she keeps around purely because she likes the way they look. This ranges from a pretty rock to a piece of scrap metal or shrapnel that she thinks is shaped prettily. She's constantly gathering more as she goes about her missions. She doesn't really have a reason, she just likes something and picks it up. She's a bit of a hoarder.

Key shamelessly loves garbage soap opera tv shows, terrible romance novels (you know the ones. Where every cover has a some male showing off his muscles or power with something ominous above him like 'He could take on anything, except her love.'), and her favorite movies are the sappy romantic ones like Fleet and Flotilla (her second favorite being horror movies, and she has a large collection of both in her apartment and omni-tool.).

Key likes to use Simstims to experience things she normally could not, given her practically nonexistent immune system.

Key is a video game nerd, having clocked several hundred hours on Galaxy of Fantasy, Grim Terminus Alliance, Alliance Corsair, and numerous other games.

Key enjoys hand puzzles (like the rubrics cube) and has at least one on her at all times.

Osum is different from most Vorcha then people would expect from a mercenary. Where most vorcha are aggressive and violent and while Osum can be aggressive. Outside of combat, Osum is rather quiet and keeps to himself. Only choosing to be violent when needed, and likes to relax and keep the peace. Not wanting an unnecessary conflict unless there is no way to avoid it when off the job. Giving him a moral compass that he got from Teryda and though he is a mercenary. Osum does not sell his services to the highest bidder but chooses who gets his skills. Even if it pays better, he will still stick to his morals. Which when it comes to dealing with other vorcha, most of the time, Osum feels uneasy. Feeling more comfortable with other races, mainly the asari, due to his upbringing. Acting somewhat as an outcast since he does not fit well with most vorcha and most races look down on him for being a Vorcha. Not really fitting in with anyone, and Osum can at times feel lonely. Which is something that he can't really fix and makes him angry sometimes. Osum tries not to think about it and choosing to focus on surviving and keeping himself busy.

Osum's tale is a bit different from most vorcha that either grew up on their homeworld Heshtok or raised by the Blood Pact to be cannon fodder. No, Osum's tale begins at an asari world of Namakli. Orphaned shortly after he was born and adopted by an asari named Teryda Myradri, who had planned along with the rest of the vorcha on Namakli. To be raised as skilled laborers and employed in various jobs on the planet. Most were miners and engineers. Which while he was taught some engineering skills growing up, Asari had a different job for him. For she was one of the colony's doctors and wished to train Osum as one.

Growing up, Osum as Teryda trained as her medical assistant. Learning medicine, physiology, med-gel, and more. Which the young vorcha took very well and even seemed to be learning faster than Teryda expected. Even becoming skilled at knowing and treating both vorcha and asari physiologies. Teryda was proud of how Osum was doing, and soon he was able to treat patients on his own. Which Osum took pride in and wanted to make his foster mother proud. Having proud of his work and enjoyed it.

However, this would change when an economic downturn hit the planet and caused many of the asari to leave, which caused a domino effect wherewith most of the asari population gone. There were not a lot of people to train and control the growing vorcha population. Soon, the vorcha grew too large to manage and became violent. Effectively doomed the colony with the remaining asari leaving as the vorcha violently took control. Osum would be one of the few vorcha to leave with the asari but not with Teryda. As they were leaving their clinic, a group of vorcha ambushed him, and Teryda was killed, which caused Osum to snap and attack the vorcha and killed them. It was not easy to convince the asari to bring him with them without Teryda and knowing that he had killed people. Even if they were fellow vorcha and not an Asari, still, he managed to leave Namakli behind.

After the ordeal, Osum had a lot of time to think about what to do with his life. By killing, he had been isolated by the asari he was with, who did not want to somehow anger him. Realizing that he had no future with the asari now and with nothing left besides his skills and knowledge. Knowing full well how the galaxy feels about his kind and knew a normal job would be very hard to get. Osum decided on becoming a mercenary to survive. He did not enjoy it but, to him, it was the only option for him. So, after making a stop at Omega, Osum used what credits he had to buy a gun and supplies before looking for anyone that might hire him.

Osum stayed away from the Blood Pact and any of the other mercenary groups. Wanting to be independent and have the freedom to chose his employer. However, early on, he did not really have much of a choice and took low-earning jobs. It was not until a year in did Osum get a break and finally get better earning jobs. Thus, actually getting an option to choose for once, and things were stable. Able to actually enjoy himself for once in a long time and for three more years, Osum's life would go uninterrupted.

That was until he took a job protecting a small-time official that was having trouble from a gang on the Citadel. Osum did not need the money but, from what he could gather, the official was trying to some good, and this gang was not having any of it. So, Osum decided on taking the job, and it took a surprising turn, and Osum became involved in ultimately shutting down a major gang. Getting the attention of C-Sec in the progress, and later, he would get an offer to be a part of Operation Kingslayer after thinking about it. Osum decided on joining, seeing a chance of doing some real good by helping to take down a rogue Spectre. So now he waits on the Citadel waiting to meet his new teammates and get their first assignment.

Sivus is what you get when you combine the closest thing to Turian Royalty and being told he's meant for greatness and him actually believing it.

He comes from an acclaimed line of Cabals, with many of the male turians in his family being known for their impressive leadership and impressive combative skills. And for Sivus, he's always believed he's been destined for greatness, which may speak to the arrogance that flows through his body. and maybe that led him to be ignorant to how life will knock you on your ass, but that's never rocked his confidence. He's always maintained the notion that he is the best and when he served in the Turian Military, he proved it by outclassing most - if not all - of the same-year recruits.

He bleeds blue charisma. He can charm his way into or out of most situations (if he needs to). And this stems from the raw, almost suave nature that is on the surface almost at all times. Many call him obnoxious for the way he presents himself, but you can believe that every word that comes from his mouth is fully backed by him believing they are gospel.

Though he is a leader in every respect, when he wasn't promoted and was still serving under his CO, he was and, to a degree, still is known for his reckless behavior. Again, this stems from the innate arrogance and sense of entitlement he was raised with. It's not that he has problems following orders. If given an ultimatum and it's clear as he is obviously handsome, then he will carry out the order he's given from start to finish. That being said, he will offer up his opinion or depending on the situation and what kind of mood he might be in, Sivus will have several opinions. This may lead him to clash with the commanding officer of the unit/squad he is assigned to.

But after it's all said and done, he will carry these orders out and will always be loyal to those he fights by.

Because that's another thing that Sivus is known for. You can call him every name in the book. You can bring up the worst moments of his professional career, but one thing you can't say is that he's disloyal. Never has he ever let anyone close to him take the fall for him nor has he let anyone down in his twenty-eight years of being alive. He'll risk his professional reputation so that his personal rep can maintain its integrity because that's what Sivus Veritas represents. He's a hotshot and will question authority, but he'll have your back when it really matters.

The name Veritas not only commands respect, but it is given it because for generations, every son born to the Veritas family has not only brought honor and dignity to the Cabal Vanguards, but they have served with the Turian Military for as long as they could until retirement since the first Veritas named Simus. For generations for the last seven hundred years, they have done the Cabals proud. With this respect and prestige and long history, there was bound to come expectations.

Sivus, the lastest Veritas to come of age, has always known that one day he would be expected to climb the ranks when it was his turn to join the Turian Military. Growing up in sheltered (though not too sheltered), he never displayed any opposition to it. On some level, he understood this is what it meant to be a son born into the Veritas family. And he had enjoyed the privilege of being from wealth. His childhood home was massive as it stood up on a hill overlooking the city below it. And he had servents that would get him anything he desired. It didn't matter if it was food, expenses, or toys, whatever Sivus wanted, if the servents could obtain it for him, it was his.

But on his fifteenth birthday, unlike most species' who would celebrate it with a big celebration, some kind of food that would be the focal point of being celebrated, for the Veritas family, the ritual that Sivus went through was taking the first step into doing the Veritas name proud. He began his first day with the Turian Military.

Not even a week into service and Sivus Veritas was already in the Cabal Program, being infused with Element Zero and taking the first steps to not only artificially develop biotic powers, but after his initial recovery time was finished, he'd train under not just any Turian Captain, but a one Tarus Veritas, his father.

Tarus didn't play favorites. This was probably Sivus' biggest culture shock. The Tarus he knew, while strong and always honor first, was also a loving father, but professionally, Sivus had never experienced a tougher son of a bitch than if he had any say in the matter. Every single combat drill, training regime, and when the mood struck him, spontaneous runs through the marshland that surrounded the Cabal Camp, was excruciating. Every morning he woke up exhausted and every night he went to bed aching.

This unique form of torture, while effective in the long run, proved to be the very thing that fractured the once delicate father-son relationship that Sivus thought they had. There were even times when he challenged his father's authority. It wasn't without reason. When one of his best friends was taking a short break, his father pistol-whipped him. This caused Sivus to come to his defense, but doing so meant that he had to challenge the authority that was Captain Tarus.

Suffice to say that Sivus went back to camp with a few more scraps and bruises than he left with, but this cemented a thought in the unit of seven that they will remember for the years to come. When one of them was kicked down, regardless of his arrogance and ego, Sivus' unit would remember that he came to their defense. Not even the wrath of his own father would stop him from being there for his brothers.

His loyalty would only develop the higher he rose up the ranks and by the time he was just twenty-three, Sivus was promoted to the rank of Captain. Through hard work and perseverance, which was deeply rooted in proving to his father that none of his harsh tactics would demotivate him, he was given his own unit, but not just any unit. He commanded the same one he came up with.

For about a year, The Cabal Vanguards, but especially the unit that Sivus led, were joined by other Turian Military squads during missions that were generally to fend off invaders from Turian Colonies and those that were suspect to Pirates and other unscrupulous individuals. For the most part, every mission was a raging success. High praise came his way. The Cabal unit he led was given specific respect for how effectively they moved as a singular unit. It was noted by his superiors that Sivus inherited his father's talent for leading a successful infiltration squad that moved as one. When he gave an order, they followed it to a T.

When Sivus was asked by none other than his father to lead a private, off-the-record infiltration mission of the highest order. The mission was a simple one, though it proved to have many risks involved.

On Omega, a former Turian Military general was going to sell secrets to a group of Blue Sun mercs. If successful, it would not only harm the hierarchy by exposing dozens of military operations and undercover agents within the Terminus Systems, but in doing so, it would also expose a dark secret linking Tarus to organized crime.

Sivus was conflicted after his father told him the extent of what these secrets could do to the family. If made public, everything their ancestors built would be followed by the shame of financing illegal biotic experiments. The pride he once felt for the Veritas name had left when Sivus accepted to take this mission. It was not because of his father that he took the mission; it was for the pride of the Cabal Vanguards.

He went to Omega with his unit, who were dubbed The Seven Aces. It was a simple mission, right? Find the treasonous Nidas Stysius and either bring him quietly or eliminate him before he could transfer the secrets over the Blue Suns.

So how could he have misjudged the situation so immensely?

During their fifth night on Omega, all of their sources and the intel they provided them with had determined the deal was happening in the Kima District. So they moved like one organism, crossing the bridge and getting into positions. Those who were long-range would take sniping positions and those who were close-quarter fighters were with Sivus.

It was a 4-3 formation.

Only, what neither of them anticipated was they had been betrayed by one of their top sources.

Mercs from all three major groups: Eclipse, Blood Pack, and Blue Sons had converged on the location, cornering them on the bridge. Before Sivus had any time to react, before he could give any orders to his men, a massive firefight followed. It was a massacre, too. Krogans and Vorcha; Salarians and Asari; Turians and Batarians, the blood of all shades spilled over the bridge. Bodies were flying, concussive rounds shot in every single direction.

And then came the war cries.

And then the screams of agony when one took their last breath.

In the aftermath of the fight stood only two men.

Sivus Veritas and the leader of Omega's Blue Suns. A human named Ryan Gusman. In a fit of rage, Sivus almost murdered the man, but he approached the man, paralyzing him with his biotics, and pinned him against the nearest wall. He only had one demand: tell him who organized this betrayal.

And when Ryan uttered Tarus Veritas' name, everything in Sivus died - everything that mattered, that is.

Ryan Gusman didn't have a reason why. He only stated that he was given over a hundred thousand credits to lure Sivus to Omega, feed his sources wrong information, and to slaughter "the one who brought Tarus the most shame".

With that information, Sivus vanished. His entire identity, from the loyalty he once held for his people and his family to the Turian pride he once had, had died with the other Six Aces. He needed to find himself again. He needed to rediscover that part of him that was, above all else, something to be proud of. That's what led him to the Citidel.

When arrived on the Citadel no more than a year ago, he did odd jobs for some not-so-pleasant company. From criminals to shady businessmen and politicians, if they needed hired muscle, Sivus wasn't against it, but he'd pick semi-legitimate work over being someone they can order to kill someone. It wasn't until he became engrossed in the Wards and developed an attachment for not only the people who lived there but those who needed his services more that he decided to get involved in a somewhat more personal way.

And that's how he became a bouncer for Chora's Den, though secretly he worked as an off-the-books CI for C-Sec. It wasn't the safest job, but compared to being betrayed by your own father and losing your entire unit, being a CI/Bouncer at one of the shadiest "clubs" in the Wards was like paradise for him.

The year passed and Sivus was becoming quite fond of his place at Chora's Den. He developed a rapport with the clients, the dancers, a one General Septimus, and he even had an appointment with the Consort in just five months. Everything was aligning for him and he almost felt like he was regaining what he had lost nearly a year ago.

That was until someone from some operation called "Kingslayer" contacted him at his private residence. What stuck out to him was how they addressed him in the E-mail.

"Dear, Sivus Veritas--"

That's what made him pay attention.

Whoever it was, they knew everything: where he came from, who his father was, how his entire unit died on Omega, and how he was a CI with C-Sec and was close to taking down Fist. Everything he had done since joining the Turian Military was detailed in the message, yet it wasn't presented in a negative light. They praised him for his numerous accomplishments and wanted him for a special task force.

Maybe this was it. The one thing that could give Sivus his light back. Being a bouncer could only do so much. Maybe what he needed most was being part of a team and kicking ass in the process.

In the message, it was cited that his military record, notable leadership experience, and overall charm made him a perfect candidate for the operation.

In the back of his mind, Sivus had doubts, but he knew he couldn't pass this up. At the very least, it might be fun!