"You know how to knock someone out, right?"
...
His shackles removed, and now joined by two of his team, Roland felt the first bit of relief since departing from the main body of the party. He let out a sigh as Tzvi addressed him by his chosen code name, and gave Mark a sideways glance; he knew that the mercenary had probably already figured out what his game was, and what the quarian and vorcha were playing at too with how they all were associating.

The former cop took a brief moment of respite in massaging his sore wrists before retrieving the the cuffs which had been used to restrain him. With a quick glance he could already recognize the model and systems in place within the small device -- it was similar to something that they had used in Boston, with a few modifications which weren't technically legal -- and was able to reprogram it with a few flicks of the fingers at his omni-tool. "Now-now Tzvi, no need for violence," he said back to her in a similarly hushed tone. Tzvi's face-plate turned to him curiously. He strode over to Ret and forced both his hands behind his back -- a familiar motion to him if there ever was one -- and engaged the lock to the cuffs. "Now if he gets too uppity, and loud-" 
"You little pieces of shi-" he began, but was interrupted as his body slightly convulsed with the flow of an electrical current; almost as if to prove Roland's point. 
A small smirk played on Roland's lips, "-the cuffs will send out a little shock and shut him up. Good thing these Quantum folks aren't ones to play by the rules, huh?"

Tzvi coughed out an airy laugh, arms drooping before lowering the gun's barrel. 
With all the time she'd seen him, it was the first that Roland seemed like a cop. The man never acted like cops Tzvi knew. He never acted suspicious of her as one of the “disreputable” races, he never doggedly raced after a criminal, or judged or targeted the team he was – unnaturally - working in, or displayed the self-righteous, uptight, thuggish authority, or cliquey superiority around other cops. Tzvi couldn't recall a time he actually made an order or demand. But he fixed the cuffs and locked them around the turian's hands, no problem. It looked like a proper arrest. And Tzvi didn't even know the cuffs electrocuted their rowdy captors. 

“Always is. Means they've got some nice tech to grab.”

Maybe it was a bad thing, but the merc found herself impressed. 

“You've gotta show me how you did that, sometime.”

Roland turned to the quarian, chest puffed, and face revealing the small pride that he took in his little display. "Sometime; maybe," he said to the quarian with a coy smirk.

Lonnie stayed laid across the ground, dead silent, armor and skin burnt crisp and blackened on the side that brunted the worst of the fire that jumped him. She couldn't judge if the guard was breathing or not.

Tzvi reluctantly stuck a thumb behind her. She wanted to sound casual, but an unsteady sheepishness tainted it, "Heey..I don't know what your ethics are on guards preemptively struck down before they potentially attempt to get us killed, but, uh, that guard's having a bad time of it if the fire didn't do him in. Might want to check on him. Up to you."

Roland let out a small 'hmph' as he saw what Tzvi was pointing to. Casualties were something to be expected on any mission, but for the guy to not even have shot at them... Well, the medic couldn't quite place where his feelings were on the issue. "I'll... take a look," he finally said after a moments deliberation. He headed over and knelled over the unconcious mercenary. "Guy probably carries his own supply of medi-gel that I could probably siphon, anyway; couldn't bring my own without making it look like I was expecting trouble."

Orish spat again. "The moment I get out of here I'm going to gut you and your fa-"

"Right. Last word from you'ah," hissed Kygg, his free hand moving to grab Orish's neck and halting the salarian's sentence. He clenched tightly, choking the man as his bladed hand pulled back, the knife-edge reducing into a simple omni-tool.

Tzvi turned on a heel from the arrested turian when she picked up the vorcha's voice, and ambled toward the other to check the situation.

The omni-tool began moving with holographic pistons and saws, producing a tiny object in Kygg's palm. Oh, how he loved how useful a well-tuned omni-tool was. The tiny object hummed gently and a tiny red light glistened on it. Kygg, holding it up in Orish's face for a moment, tucked it into the collar of the salarian's armour. It ticked softly against his skin. Orish, confused, opened his mouth to inquire, only for Kygg's fist to strike his jaw again.

"You'ah. Stop talking right'ah now. Don't move. Don't speak. Don't even breath'ah... or this little thing?" The most sinister smirk Tzvi had ever seen crept out on Kygg's face, a glint in his eye and blood on his teeth. "Boom'ah..." he whispered in Orish's ear.

There was a silent pause from Tzvi. First job, Kygg’s sharp smile oozing blood at the blinking explosion hidden on a salarian would have horrified her. Enough to hitch a ship’s cargo bay and jump into the galaxy's next cluster, if not all the way back to a bad mining job. It still got a jump out of her that made her stop, now. Roland was similarly mortified as his ears picked up on the vorcha's words; enough to stop his work on the guard and check over his shoulder before continuing again with some hesitation.

Tzvi didn’t like the idea of Orish getting the others unnecessarily killed out of spiteful stupidity, but she ignored that fact. It was hard to neglect the want to dump a mine on Orish. It would be unfair to block Kygg from the opportunity to horrify him, and the chance to give Luek and friends another party surprise when he checked the security room. Full of his broken staff and domesticated Quantum boss, or a giant crater redecorating his luxury ship in a rainbow of splatters. 

She chuckled, to her own surprise. Even the tough, proud, arrogant boss failed to muster more than a paltry thin polish of unfazed apathy over the stunned terror. Tzvi had no idea how the salarian would last the hour without talking or hitting something.

“This is why you learn your manners 'n' don’t ask questions about classified information, sir,” came the sunny lecture, which Roland couldn't help but let a small chuckle out at. Tzvi strolled around to Kygg’s side with a plainly evident bounce in her step. Almost all the cheer genuine. It was a small victory dance.

“I like your idea, Kygg, good thinking. I don’t think this guy’ll ever have a more appropriate punishment."

"Careful with your words there, Tzvi," Roland playfully cautioned as he dosed some of the pilfered equipment into the body under him. Tzvi's form perked up with a glance to her partner. "Someone may decide to cut his tongue out -- much more appropriate -- I actually think we're being lenient." 

“[i]Ah,[/i]” the helmet subtly bowed in acknowledgement, “ A fate worse than death!: he’d have to live with the consequences. ”

Her mask dropped back to Kygg and the bloodied boss below, “While we finish up here, would you mind giving him a nap? I’d rather not test his sense of survival and ‘loyalty’” Tzvi snorted, “against how much he hates this lot.”

"But'ah... if he stay awake'ah, he much more scared'ah. Know what's'ah coming... Shah!" hissed Kygg, purposely exaggerating the stereotypical vorcha speech patterns. He turned to look at Orish, baring his razor teeth.

Tzvi held one arm that cupped her hand around her chin. “You're right, it ruins the point,” she slowly conceded, mulling over it. “That's too bad.”
Her voice was somber, near shame. Tzvi didn't want to block Kygg from every idea he had. “He could be conscious most the time, when we're gone...You got anything handy to make him doze off for a shorter while? We could dose him a bit much medi-gel?”

"Wouldn't work well, or at all really," Roland cut in, walking over to join the two. "Accidentally pulled that one on Tanya after Omega, and she wouldn't stop jabbering. I don't know about you two, but I would prefer to live a little longer."

"And waste'ah our own? I'd rather just punch him'ah," replied the vorcha.

A quiet [i]ffft[/i] could be heard as Tzvi sucked a thin line of air between her teeth and bitten lip. A hand swept from the side of her face plate to the back of her head. Tzvi blanked on what else to do. “Well..blast.”

Kygg opted for his usual approach. He punched him, a closed fist enclosed in an omni-tool that struck the side of the salarian's temple. It didn't knock the salarian out in a single blow as Kygg had hoped and even the second one failed to down him, instead leaving Orish groaning in pain as a headache began to take shape.

"...fine, fine'ah. You try," Kygg said, standing but leaving a foot pressed down firmly on the man's chest.

Tzvi shifted awkwardly in her place. “...You sure you don’t want to punch him more? ..I mean, this sort of spoils your fun, as it is.”

"I've already hit him nine-" Kygg slammed his foot down on the salarian's stomach. "Ten times'ah. I've had my fun'ah."

"Alright," Tzvi shrugged it off. She pulled up the salarian's omni-tool. Like many people, his medi-gel doses were ready to go at the command of a button. She raised her head to see Roland’s look, hesitated, then pressed it anyways.
Three times later, the salarian’s screwed up face uncrumpled, mouth slumping open as the head lolled around on the ground. Slurred syllables began to gurgle to the surface.

“No!” Tzvi started mashing the command. Orish’s form grew flimsier and tongue looser with every button press. The eyelids drooped, but the gel wouldn’t knock him out. Tzvi spat out a frustrated sigh and a hasty boot smacked the boss’s head. The broken face tossed to the left, without another peep from the unconscious Orish. Tzvi awkwardly stared at it in surprise, before glancing to the others and defensively shrugging her shoulders.

“...yeah.” After coughing to clear her throat, she uncertainly patted the vorcha on the back, "Thanks, Kygg - uh, sorry - I owe you one for this."

The next order of business was perhaps the newly introduced liability, to whom Roland turned.

*

A small red flag went up in Mark's mind as the accomplices chose to just detain the Quantum members, but that didn't matter right now as his former bench buddy turned to him.

"So, I know you know my name," he started tonelessly, not sparing the now incredulous looking Tzvi a glance in fear he would lose any nerve he now held from the scolding he was likely to receive. 

Mark nodded slowly. 
"Probably."

He smirked from the bound merc's sense of humor. "And you know you're now likely to be implemented in whatever it is we're going to be doing on this ship, so, uh-" he hesitated, unsure as to how everyone else on Nova would respond to what he wanted to say next.

"Am I now?" Mark threw in during the pregnant delay.

The beginning of Roland's agitation showed as he rolled his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "-how about a small job, huh?"

“[i]What?[/i]”
Tzvi practically choked on the offer. First Roland gave away his name to a strange merc, now this? Did he know how this career worked? This was only getting worse. 
All this would bring was a wary watch over one of her previous targets "helping" them with the promise of pay. A bad bodyguard that couldn't care about his job, employer, or the fact that he was fired, and had somehow managed to end up here, the security room, with a nosy and high-strung Quantum boss trying to beat his face until it stretched like clay and molded into something new. Worst of all, Tzvi was convinced he was one of their peers in a job market that was borderline-criminal, at best of times.

Mark quirked a brow and looked around the battered room. It had been messy, but the break out had been successful. They were clearly organized, and it would likely be a lot easier to get off this tub if he tagged along instead of making a go of it himself.

Roland swallowed nervously; an obvious shock from Tzvi, and a current lack of response from the fellow in front of him had left him unsure of his choice of words and actions.

Mark shrugged,
"Whelp. All I had to do was get drunk, punch a merc lieutenant in the face, and conveniently land myself int the same room as you. So it wasn't the hardest try out I've ever had. But seeing as I was about to be on my way out anyways I guess I might as well get paid while doing it." 
He raised his brows and added pointedly, 
"That is what the word job implies after all... Yeah, a 'small job' sounds like a fun time. So Roland," he glanced over at the quarian to gauge her reaction – crossing her arms and flatly staring him down in turn - at the use of what he assumed was 'Archie's' real name, "if you'll kindly get me out of these cuffs, and give me my weapons, I'll lend a hand to get us outta here. Party wasn't my style anyway." 

“No, no, no. Wait a second,” Tzvi's feet skimmed along the room to stop her naive teammate, ending just short of him. "He's a merc. He's a merc we don't know. Who wouldn't agree to a job if it got them out of cuffs in a room set to blow? And how many people in our profession d'you think would play along until they found a nicer deal?"

Tzvi grabbed Roland's arm and leaned in to hush her voice, looking him straight in the eye, "We don't know what he can do or what he's willing to do, he'll have weapons he can turn on us, and alarms, and people. And his only supposed motivation is to get out of this ship, and an unnamed sum of credits." Which the bodyguard could easily turn into an auction, with only one bidder forced to agree to an increasingly large offer under the threat that they'd be gunned down otherwise. Assuming he wasn't lying about cooperation to start with.

Roland gritted his teeth from the lack of enthusiasm that was in the quarian's response and forced a shrug, Tzvi’s arm dropping with it. "What other real choice do we have? He has weapons, and at the rate at which things are progressing, we're never going to be getting ours before everything blows up into a free-for-all," Roland uttered in a forceful whisper, trying to reassure her of his choice, but real conviction lacking from his voice. "There's another boss on this ship -- one who actually has some air of authority and ability about him unlike this salarian bastard," he motioned his thumb in Orish's direction, "-- and if, when, he issues this ship to go into red alert -- which will happen whenever he returns to this room -- him, the rest of his outfit, and any others like my former companion-in-chains here are all going to be gunning for us.
That made Tzvi weary. The second problem was well known, but being one with actual authority or power would make a challenge. [i]'We're taking care of it before he does,'[/i] she wanted to say, but the quarian didn't interrupt Roland. Tzvi didn't believe it'd be so clean and easy, herself, anyways.
"We're in over our head, I've come to realize," he continued, a commanding conviction finally entering entering his voice with this last statement, "-and we're going to need any help we can get now.” Tzvi’s stubborn disagreement shrunk into a hunched, tense quiet, wayward eyes flicking away and passing over the cuffed man. Roland was right. They were on the edge of a desperate spot. More trouble and less help was a bad combination. And Tzvi had been here before. Scrambling for help from shady, new-made friends. [i]'Almost every time...'[/i] The playback egged her gut to kill the risk with a shot to its head more than open its lock.
"Loyalty isn't the issue here; whether we get off this ship or not is."

[i]’Loyalty?’[/i] Her gaze snapped back in focus on Roland. She sounded almost surprised, “I’m not talking loyalty. We need insurance.”
“You’re right, completely right..” she paused. One balled up fist lightly tapped twice on and covered the glass where the mouth should be. “But we’re dead if he waits to catch our backs turned. And it’s tricky to avoid notice, already.”

Mark's attention switched lazily between the quarian and Roland while they argued in hushed tones. He was able to catch bits of the conversation, but didn't glean much from them. All he could gather was that they were clearly not friends with Quantum, and by extension, the owner of the boat either. As if that wasn't already apparent. But right now, that made them potential allies. The enemy of my enemy and all that. He decided to cut in.

"Look honey," he started, addressing the quarian, whose head slowly turned his way, "times a wastin' so lemme' break it down for you. The way I see it, you've got a few options. A: You kill me right now. But considering you haven't already, I'm guessing that's not really your style. So we can ignore that one. B: You leave me here. And C: You cut me loose. Now, what you need to realize is, with or without your help, I will be leaving this room. So what it really comes down to is, do you want me leaving this room knowing you helped me out, or do you want me leaving this room chasing you down to get my things back knowing that you left me here with an active bomb?"

Mark shrugged then and leaned forward in anticipation of the answer, fingers steepled.
"I may not look like much, but it seems like a pretty obvious choice to me. If it's not obvious, I highly recommend option C."
Roland smirked.

His pitch for freedom solidified Roland's points. Mark was a problem either way, at least in one case it was possible he'd be less of one. An odd, silly smile caught Tzvi. Cons and scams highly recommended giving them cash, too.
[i]'My 'style.' What's that fried 'n' crispy smell drifting over here?'[/i]
Tzvi let go of the thought. No reason to antagonize a to-be traveling companion, threat or no. Especially a threat. She'd get farther looking harmless: an upstanding person of morals, an idiot; a coward. Tzvi finally nodded and said in passing, "Alright, hurrah for Option C. You're on the team."

A halting hand shot up, "Gotta do a couple things first before we pack up and go. It'll take a few minutes, max. Then you'll have free hands to hold your weapons." Tzvi hurried over to the security control panel to gain control and access on her omni-tool. With Orish's information on a separate arm, it was even easier to earn the top level of authority in the system. "Ryncola-friend and I have an excuse to be in the back maze-of-hallways, but you two don't, and they're going to know you're supposed to be held back here.." Tzvi drifted off once working on shutting down the alarms and notices without obvious sign, and began rolling in and out of conversation with wavering focus, "...so, you've got to be ready to bolt 'n' hide....I've got a map..with everyone's location, if you need it."
"May need more than that; my first attempt wasn't really successful as you can see."
Tzvi paused. The mask tilted upward, and she breathed out a laugh. "Then follow our lead."

An error sign filled up the large square of screens, and the screens responded to the rude interruption a flash-second later by cutting the message short and flickering off. Any sensory devices surveying the ship and additional functions were now blocked on the main system, faking that it was broken. Tzvi checked that it all transferred properly to the small computer wrapped about her wrist.

"Think we're done here." In unison with the word, Tzvi sent the buzz notice to the crew. The first goal was reached. Now they just needed the bridge.

Tzvi leaned over and picked up one of the guard's guns, "Back to a bit ago, we can't set off the alarm. Not because of a little noise and two breakout rebel guests, anyhow. We're supposed to be stealth'ing this, and the whole thing's done for if we spook 'em early. Just gotta be a tad more careful and follow the core plan."

A voice popped into her ear and stopped her from grabbing another gun. "I'm really hoping you guys weren't lying about taking care of the security room, or me and the socialite will be soon be entertaining a host of very angry mercenaries. We've taken care of Luek and located the safe, now we're going to need someone looking after us while we get it open. There should be a hell of a lot of camera feeds in that security center; one of you should commandeer them. We need an eye on the rest of the ship, someone to let us know if we or anyone else on the team is about to get any unexpected company. Can you guys do that?"

A cheesy grin hit Tzvi's face.
"Oh, [i]shoot,[/i] did we say that? It was good to hear your voice one last time, Kos-so. Sorry to see you go in thirty seconds; I'll play this sad tune from the net over the com's to bring some comfort."

Mark, raised a brow at this unorthodox response to what he assumed was an additional team member. He glanced over at Roland and jerked his thumb at Tzvi with a 'What's her deal,' expression. 'She's lived a sheltered life,' the medic mouthed back.

Tzvi's voice straightened into a deeper, solemn tone, "Yes, it's all good. I've got it all already set; only people that can see you or anyone is us. I can keep an eye on it. You want the video sent over?
"And hey, uh, I'm not sure we should be chatting through audio like this.."

"Okay then - uh," a ping popped from the omni-tool and showed a message from Mari. Tzvi typed a short message back:
[i]"We've got you. No worries from our end. Good luck."[/i]

Tzvi looked up, a grin shining through, "Everyone up to see the bridge?" Roland and Kygg had already plucked up the other weapons, so Tzvi went straight to Mark. Switching through Orish's windows, she tapped the right button and the cuffs unhooked. "You're free." 

"'Bout time," Mark muttered as he tossed the cuffs aside and rolled his wrists.

The hacker handed the dagger and the gun, hilt facing the stranger, and offered a hand to help up. There was something palpably more sunny and genial than minutes before. "Cute, now we're all friends," quipped a certain sentinel.

"What's your name, partner?"

Mark opted to stand on his before taking his effects and slipping them into their respective holsters. The knife, blade up on his left pectoral, and the Phalanx into the mag lock on his right thigh. Then he rolled his head about to try and work out the kinks caused by Orish's administrations.

"Name's Mark."

He rubbed his index and middle finger across his right temple and the corner of his mouth to see if they were still bleeding, and was rewarded with a streak of crimson on his finger tips. He rubbed out the stain with his thumb.

"And what should I call you folks? I hope it's not Isolde and Chuckles."

"Yes, in fact, he's Isolde and she's Chuckles," Roland balked with the point of a finger. "Now let's just shut up and move on to the bridge, will ya?!"
Tzvi whispered under Roland, valiantly trying - and failing by the end - to keep it dead serious, "Chuckles is also Isolde's floating pet."