"Let mé show thou min Pillars of Strength for I am the motherfuckin' 'Chinegun Preacher."
Ja'Far denied the claim made by the xenophobic human, shaking his head
"Thine recollection is wrong human, t'was another who you speak of." It was true, he and his team was stuck in Terminus space back in the Reaper war. Evading capture and fighting constantly wore his elite squadron down, eventually ending in a final last stand. He was the only survivor. He was about to speak again before the arrival of two new faces interrupted him.
The revealed Spectres didn't surprise Ja'Far in the slightest. He had suspicions in the previous day of preparation before coming here and these just confirmed them. These so-called "benefactors" that messaged him beforehand just seemed like their style. He enjoyed the more guns-ho of the group getting reprimanded by their foolish actions, their tone similar to that of his former Taskmaster. It reminded him of the man and the hellish warm-up drills he used to put the group through. A 3 kilometre swim with weights and sponges tied to you was one hell of a start to the day. This small moment of nostalgia was soon broken by images of his corpse laying at his feet, indoctrinated but recognisable with those blue cerulean eyes. His eyes visibly hardened and looked around the room.
It seemed as though that the Geth, a Krogan and a Quarian had answered the Spectre's call but Ja'Far paused to do so, waiting for more to join to size up his possible comrades. He was obviously going to accept, he had no other choice. Either join this squad of misfits which parodied Shepard's own or face eventual prosecution by one of the various surviving factions in the now destroyed Hegemony. He was granted political, religious and social caste immunity as Legionnaire and was used frequently to take down any and all opponents to the government. Now that said government was gone, all of the groups he had previously personally wronged through public executions to good old assassination were now out to get him.
As the last surviving member of the Hundred, the former political assassin/boogeyman was a remnant of the old government, a target for previous wrongdoings. It was almost a curse, how feared and widespread his name was in Batarian space. Ja'Far Balak was a name whispered to High Caste children as a savage, a killer who was shackled to the Hegemony and wouldn't even hesitate to kill anyone who stood in the way of his objectives. His days were numbered if he ever thought to do things alone and it was likely a knife would have ended up in his back in the following months. However, through this whole Spectre "let's save the galaxy together" squad, he could achieve redemption through fire. He would be damned to the Eternal Darkness if he couldn't make up for his multitude of sins.
Ja'Far was brought out of his inner thoughts by the human's answer to the call. He was by far the most unpredictable in the group. A man scarred by some fucked up Cerberus shit. He was almost bipolar in how he acted and came off as absolutely wrong in the head. He knew how dangerous it was to work with someone who was mentally ill (Priests of Redemption coming to mind) but he also knew how valuable they were. This uneasiness he felt about him and his personality was felt similarly by the enemy, along with the terror from imminent death of course. That small moment of hesitation by the enemy, intimidated by this absolute psycho, could be used to kill said enemy. It was often why the Priests of Redemption were so maniacal and zealous, it struck fear into the opponents, giving enough time for his squad to go for the kill.
The Batarian peered at him for a moment however, an almost spark of recognition forming. He blinked and mentally shook his head.
'Unlikely that this human was the same Cerberus dog who killed him. I won't believe it until I see his actual fighting style.' He took his thoughts away from the man and moved on to the Krogan.
Wise, reasonable and level-headed. Rykarn seemed like a valuable asset. While previous dealings with others of his species were somewhat limited but one of Ja'Far squad mates was a Krogan ex-slave. Ripped her owner apart with her bare hands, some sorta collector of rare slave. How a slave dealer got his hands on her was, still is, beyond his knowledge but she proved to be a very nice tank for the team, if a bit aggressive. The former Legionnaire was interested to see how the male side of the Krogan species held up against her example. His expectations were no doubt high but so far, he was in the good books for not adding to his headache.
The Quarian seemed like any other suit rat to him. Ja'Far couldn't tell the difference between most of their species' members in terms of appearance and this Rayes'Xum had little interaction within the group. He did a quick rundown and thought of him as little more than an engineer, maybe a technical saboteur at best. Little to no combat proficiency judging from the lack of weapons and Quarian biotics were rare in these parts.
The Geth... Well, the AI were almost always combat proficient and it seemed as though this platform was the same. Ja'Far couldn't help but feel however that Phalanx was somewhat childish. Albeit in a "I can break your spine because I'm a robot" kind of way but the resigned soldier couldn't help the urge to hug the thing machine, no matter how strange that may be, due to the child-like innocence it presented. The sniper rifle it had equipped also suggested a good marksman and he could respect that. Maybe they could be partners in coming combat missions.
Deciding that the time to sit idle was no longer, Ja'Far stepped up and put his hand on his chest, forcing all three of his eyes on the Spectre's as a sign of Batarian respect. He bowed slightly
"I canst not foresee such a reason for I to deny such an offer. I, Ja'Far Balak, formerly of the 1st Penal Hundred of the Batarian Hegemony Legionnaires, give miń service to thou and this group. From this day onward, miń weapons art thine weapons, miń eyes art thine eyes. I name all who step forward as friend and comrade." He took his place amongst his new squad, taking a long drag of his two cigars, inhaling the sweet grimy smell. He had a feeling that he would regret this decision in the future.
Member
Altered Tundra