Member
FulgrimLives
Hyperdrive
Punished GN
POOPHEAD189
Days before…
A few candidates were already checked off the list.
Cherk was orderly, methodical, and most of all, efficient. He went down the list of recruits to see who was left. Most of the crew was already accounted for, there were just a few left to collect. They still needed an engineer other than Kori’andh to do the actual maintenance while she was flying. Of the two on this list, one was clearly more qualified. One was more of a soldier, and would probably make for a decent mercenary, but he needed a specialist. Self-taught mechanics couldn’t fix spaceships or decrypt computer code. A bona-fide engineer that could create automatic robotics and program a VI? That’s the type of person he needed. What sealed the deal was that they already had a little bit of experience with contracts like the one he had in store for her.
Her name on the record was Cheyenne Jung, apparently wanted for questioning by the Citadel regarding the Luna incident. However, word around Omega says such a woman went by the name Shy.
She stuck out like a sore thumb the Afterlife Club of Omega. The woman was the only one at her table next to the stage of dancing asari, and unlike the rest of the lowlives who called Omega their home, she didn’t look like much of a killer. In fact, she didn’t look like much at all. She wasn’t wearing armor or openly brandishing any weapons, but this didn’t keep him any less on his toes. According to the dossier he created based on floating rumors, she might have been odd and peculiar, but she also had a reputation for being a pretty efficient bounty hunter. As he closed the distance, her appearance became clearer underneath the neon lights. The saturated colors bounced off her buttoned up shirt printed with palm trees and pineapples, and her blonde hair adopted the lights’ pink and blue hues. Her feet were propped onto a metallic dome, a device of some kind, which was set onto the table. As he approached, she turned her head toward him, giving him a glimpse of her slanted eyes. They looked bored and unimpressed, even if there was an amused smile on her face from the performance of the dancing asari. This must’ve been what counted as a relaxing evening he had just interrupted.
“Shy Jung?”
“Did I finally get my own bounty?” She asked.
“No, I--”
“Damn. Was hoping to collect on myself.”
“I wanted to offer you a job.” He declared confidently, pointing his finger at her.
“A job?” Shy parroted back with an amused huff. “No thanks, I can’t dance. Ask one of these ladies.”
“I represent a group of mercenaries looking for someone skilled enough to patch together a hull just as well as an AI.” He explained.
“Don’t feel like it.” She was quick to answer.
The volus was left momentarily speechless before he tried to continue his sales pitch. “Are you quite sure? I think I can provide you with an opportunity to--”
“Look little man,” Shy interrupted, “why are you so dead-set on competing with the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack?”
“I’m more interested in smaller game at the moment…” He explained further. “The job pays well.”
“And why should I be interested in a low-paying job where I work with other small-fry mercs?” Shy challenged. It was hard to tell with her face unchanging, but she didn’t seem sold on the idea of working with others. “And why me?”
“Well, I understand you have some history. I don’t know the whole story, but perhaps with enough time invested, we can help you take care of that. As for you? As I understand it, you haven’t had the opportunity to finish many jobs. But despite that, I hear you’re a brilliant tech. That’s untapped potential.”
“The best.” Shy asserted nonchalantly.
“We could use someone like that. I assume you can support that claim?”
He wasn’t sure if Shy could’ve narrowed her eyes even further, but somehow she did it. Did he sabotage his own recruitment by doubting her? His concerns were lifted when the slightest smirk appeared on Shy’s face.
“Of course I can.” She said. “How about I finish a job right now?”
“Are you serious?”
“Never.” She said as she removed her feet from the table. She sat up in her seat and righted the metal dome in front of her before flipping it over and cracking open its casing, exposing the wiring inside. “But shit, it’s no skin off my back. Why not?”
After rewiring whatever was inside, she slapped the casing back on and rolled the dome around and hitched on some kind of magnetic device that was previously secured to her belt, then screwed off some kind cap on top of the machine and plucked the wiry antenna right next to it. One of the omni-tools on her wrists were taken off, and as if she was simply changing a battery, plucked a chip from inside of it and inserted it into a slot within the dome before taking the centerpiece of her tool and twisted it into a port that the cap was previously covering. She slid the antennae back into its port and screwed the cap back over the centerpiece before returning to the omni-tool on her other wrist. The volus looked over her shoulder and saw that she was waiting for a signal. ’Drone connection secured.’ Then with a swipe of her hand, she turned on the device and the sphere began to lift off of the table. Another port opened and out came a barreled lens -- video suddenly came to live on a projected monitor from her omni-tool. As if she was showing off, she swiped around on the interface and the drone spun around, its camera sending video feedback to her tool.
“Now who would be a good… aha. This guy. Smallfry. Babo, collect a bounty on the human, Sten “Deadeye” Eysenck.”
In response, the scouting drone hummed and buzzed, as if processing the request before the computer floated away above the crowd. Shy turned to look at the Volus and smirked. “Check this out.”
Sten was enjoying a relaxing sip of a Full Biotic Kick from his cocktail glass in the Fortune’s Den. He blended in well with the seedier crowd, even for a human among aliens. It was the best place a man with a bounty could get a decent drink, and compared to some of the big-leaguers surrounding him from all sides, he was small fry. Even if he was one man, nobody was going to open fire in here. Once one person starts shooting, everyone does. That’s how it worked here. Nobody was taking any chances. And to think it all started with a little bit of desertion! Pfft, fuck the Citadel. Fuck the Alliance. There wasn’t any way in hell he was going to face off against an entire Geth fleet. It was suicide.
He set his drink down and dealt his hand, much to the chagrin of the aliens around the table. Which a cocky laugh, he punched a few buttons of a computer installed into the table and he saw the number of credits to his name swell.
“Someone ought to knock you off your high horse, as you humans say.” One deep-throated krogan grumbled. “Or kick you in the quads, at least.”
“Learn to play better and you just might!” Sten goaded, leaning back into his chair. “That’s why you don’t mess with the best.”
“The best, he says,” remarked a similarly disgruntled turian, “the one who spends all his time hiding out in shithole clubs like this one. Maybe if he could keep a crew of pirates together, then he wouldn’t have so much free time on his hands.”
“Oh please,” Sten drawled, “that again? Look, if I said it once, I said it a thousand times: I didn’t need those lowlives. Amateurs like those can’t even hold up a--”
“But mutinies aren’t usually consensual on the captain’s part, are they? They threw your ass into a pod and jettisoned you out into space like they were taking out the trash. Nobody cares about you, Sten. Your bounty isn’t worth shit, and for as long as your annoying ass has been here, nobody has even bothered to try and claim it.”
...Sten rolled his eyes at the memory of the exchange, recounting the moments that lead up to this point. Looks like he ate his words.
It wasn’t but a minute after that did that blasted scouting drone buzz through the crowd, stopped in front of him, and a little red light by the top of its head turn red before deploying two holographic drones of its own and a sardonic, feminine voice demanded that he turned himself it. Immediately alarmed, Sten had just jumped away from the table before they opened fire on his chair.
His lucky chair.
It had been a chase through Omega since that point, but with all the time he spent here, he knew this place like the back of his hand. A well placed proximity mine was enough to stir up enough dust and debris for the bots to lose his trail, and from there, it didn’t take long for him to find a shortcut to the Kima district. One way in, one way out. If there was someone after him, they’d be easy pickings. He set another proximity mine on the stairwell to keep anyone from sneaking up on him from another angle, and upstairs, he comfortably positioned himself next to the window with his sniper rifle. The Volkov X; this shit was top of the line, and he didn’t earn the nickname Deadeye ironically. However came across that bridge was as good as dead.
Surely enough, someone came.
They looked like a young woman, blonde, and wearing a black, lightly-armored suit. She was flanked by her three drones and casually walked across the bridge without a care in the world. Dumb bitch. He knew well enough that taking her out meant taking out the drones too. He carefully lined up his shot as she made her way across, making sure to remain patient, allowing her to get closer for an easier shot and to build up her confidence. If she felt safe, then she wouldn’t be as on guard. As the next minute passed, and the woman made her way to the end of the bridge, Sten smirked.
‘It’s the end of the line for you.’
With bated breath, he pulled the trigger, and a explosion roared from within the chamber, followed by the shattering of glass and an energy projectile ripping through the air and through the woman’s head.
Yet she still stood.
In that very moment, static arced across her body before turning to light, a hologram, like the two defense drones that were at her side, before disappearing. Sten barely had time to react before the two drones unleashed a barrage on his location. He immediately took cover behind the piece of wall below the window as more bit of glass rained down on him. His mind racing for a solution -- he still couldn’t believe he let himself get baited like that! Then, amidst the hail of fire he was under, he heard a thunk! from outside. Did they just launch something? He looked up as a piece of metal soared over his head and onto the floor behind him. It slid across the ground for a few feet and coming to a halt. From the device, a sentry turret was raised, a jet of exhaust allow it to hover in the air as it, too, began to assail him with energy bolts.
Sten cursed and swore as a bolt hit him in his gun toting arm and another in his leg, having just enough strength left to dive behind a large piece of furniture and corner himself. He was desperate for a plan and a way out, and all he had left was his pistol and a shitty old tactical cloak that would buy him a few seconds at best. He winced as he heard the drones outside blow apart the entrance downstairs. He had the mine still situated by the staircase, so that should also…
But as he waited for the sound of the explosion, none came. The sentry turret ripped apart his barricade had suddenly ceased fire, and what would’ve been the ideal moment to come up with a plan thanks to the silence, was spent wondering why his mine didn’t go off and dreading whatever was coming next.
The sound of the woman’s voice echoed through the room, sounding clear as day, “Oh, look at that. Looks like you’re cornered.”
‘Shit.’ Frantically, he attempted to activate a device on his harness. Expecting his form to camouflage, he instead found the device exploding into sparks. ‘Fuck!’
With a last act of defiance, Sten stood on his good leg from behind the furniture and aimed his gun at the drones positioned around him, but as he pulled the trigger, no shots came. He watched sparks fly out from the battery pack and the vent was exhausting out more steam than a pistol should ever have to. He looked up helplessly at the drones cornering him. Did these things remotely sabotage all of his tech?
“Where are you?!” He shouted through the room.
In response, the tool atop the mother drone’s head created an orange-colored holographic display. On it was the video transmission of a blonde-haired woman -- not in armor, but a Hawaiian-printed shirt, and a volus looking over her shoulder. There were asari dancing in the background.
“Hey there.” She said with a smirk on her face. “Looks like you’re in a pretty tight spot.”
Presently…
Kori’s piloting needed some work, Shy thought. All this tossing and turning, one would think she flew them all through an asteroid field. She even had plans for giving the quarian shit later, something along the lines of, “is this how quarians fly?” or “It’s a wonder the migrant fleet isn’t orbiting around some planet like debris.” But the truth of the matter was far less humorous. To think she just wasted the brain power to cash in on a bounty without even getting off her ass just to get shoved into a pod of dysfunctional squares and a B-list horror monster and get framed for something she didn’t even do. Again.
She looked around the ship, eyeballing to see if there was anyone who actually could pull something off like that and get the rest of them in trouble. Zaash? She doubted he was smart enough. Naryxa? Heavens, no, too… uh, so anyway… Kyo? Possibly, ninja boy could probably sneak on board, but maybe too smart to get himself in trouble too. Ardan? Possibly. He does seem like the type to blow people up, possibly not smart enough to not incriminate himself. But that was the problem: all six of them were incriminated. Who wasn’t? Kori and and Cherk?
As Kori’andh explained the shituation, Shy seemed unfazed, still sitting in her chair with her feet propped on top of the table. She gave the people in the room another once over, and even seemed to give an appreciative nod at the accuracy of her own depiction.
“Fucking sweet.” She simply said. “Clever. So, what’s next then? You and shorty are turning us in? Haha, jokes on us, that was the plan all along? Get six chumps on your ship and frame them for an easy bounty?”
Shy scratched her head behind her ear. “Huh… I should’ve thought of that.”
A few candidates were already checked off the list.
Cherk was orderly, methodical, and most of all, efficient. He went down the list of recruits to see who was left. Most of the crew was already accounted for, there were just a few left to collect. They still needed an engineer other than Kori’andh to do the actual maintenance while she was flying. Of the two on this list, one was clearly more qualified. One was more of a soldier, and would probably make for a decent mercenary, but he needed a specialist. Self-taught mechanics couldn’t fix spaceships or decrypt computer code. A bona-fide engineer that could create automatic robotics and program a VI? That’s the type of person he needed. What sealed the deal was that they already had a little bit of experience with contracts like the one he had in store for her.
Her name on the record was Cheyenne Jung, apparently wanted for questioning by the Citadel regarding the Luna incident. However, word around Omega says such a woman went by the name Shy.
She stuck out like a sore thumb the Afterlife Club of Omega. The woman was the only one at her table next to the stage of dancing asari, and unlike the rest of the lowlives who called Omega their home, she didn’t look like much of a killer. In fact, she didn’t look like much at all. She wasn’t wearing armor or openly brandishing any weapons, but this didn’t keep him any less on his toes. According to the dossier he created based on floating rumors, she might have been odd and peculiar, but she also had a reputation for being a pretty efficient bounty hunter. As he closed the distance, her appearance became clearer underneath the neon lights. The saturated colors bounced off her buttoned up shirt printed with palm trees and pineapples, and her blonde hair adopted the lights’ pink and blue hues. Her feet were propped onto a metallic dome, a device of some kind, which was set onto the table. As he approached, she turned her head toward him, giving him a glimpse of her slanted eyes. They looked bored and unimpressed, even if there was an amused smile on her face from the performance of the dancing asari. This must’ve been what counted as a relaxing evening he had just interrupted.
“Shy Jung?”
“Did I finally get my own bounty?” She asked.
“No, I--”
“Damn. Was hoping to collect on myself.”
“I wanted to offer you a job.” He declared confidently, pointing his finger at her.
“A job?” Shy parroted back with an amused huff. “No thanks, I can’t dance. Ask one of these ladies.”
“I represent a group of mercenaries looking for someone skilled enough to patch together a hull just as well as an AI.” He explained.
“Don’t feel like it.” She was quick to answer.
The volus was left momentarily speechless before he tried to continue his sales pitch. “Are you quite sure? I think I can provide you with an opportunity to--”
“Look little man,” Shy interrupted, “why are you so dead-set on competing with the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack?”
“I’m more interested in smaller game at the moment…” He explained further. “The job pays well.”
“And why should I be interested in a low-paying job where I work with other small-fry mercs?” Shy challenged. It was hard to tell with her face unchanging, but she didn’t seem sold on the idea of working with others. “And why me?”
“Well, I understand you have some history. I don’t know the whole story, but perhaps with enough time invested, we can help you take care of that. As for you? As I understand it, you haven’t had the opportunity to finish many jobs. But despite that, I hear you’re a brilliant tech. That’s untapped potential.”
“The best.” Shy asserted nonchalantly.
“We could use someone like that. I assume you can support that claim?”
He wasn’t sure if Shy could’ve narrowed her eyes even further, but somehow she did it. Did he sabotage his own recruitment by doubting her? His concerns were lifted when the slightest smirk appeared on Shy’s face.
“Of course I can.” She said. “How about I finish a job right now?”
“Are you serious?”
“Never.” She said as she removed her feet from the table. She sat up in her seat and righted the metal dome in front of her before flipping it over and cracking open its casing, exposing the wiring inside. “But shit, it’s no skin off my back. Why not?”
After rewiring whatever was inside, she slapped the casing back on and rolled the dome around and hitched on some kind of magnetic device that was previously secured to her belt, then screwed off some kind cap on top of the machine and plucked the wiry antenna right next to it. One of the omni-tools on her wrists were taken off, and as if she was simply changing a battery, plucked a chip from inside of it and inserted it into a slot within the dome before taking the centerpiece of her tool and twisted it into a port that the cap was previously covering. She slid the antennae back into its port and screwed the cap back over the centerpiece before returning to the omni-tool on her other wrist. The volus looked over her shoulder and saw that she was waiting for a signal. ’Drone connection secured.’ Then with a swipe of her hand, she turned on the device and the sphere began to lift off of the table. Another port opened and out came a barreled lens -- video suddenly came to live on a projected monitor from her omni-tool. As if she was showing off, she swiped around on the interface and the drone spun around, its camera sending video feedback to her tool.
“Now who would be a good… aha. This guy. Smallfry. Babo, collect a bounty on the human, Sten “Deadeye” Eysenck.”
In response, the scouting drone hummed and buzzed, as if processing the request before the computer floated away above the crowd. Shy turned to look at the Volus and smirked. “Check this out.”
Sten was enjoying a relaxing sip of a Full Biotic Kick from his cocktail glass in the Fortune’s Den. He blended in well with the seedier crowd, even for a human among aliens. It was the best place a man with a bounty could get a decent drink, and compared to some of the big-leaguers surrounding him from all sides, he was small fry. Even if he was one man, nobody was going to open fire in here. Once one person starts shooting, everyone does. That’s how it worked here. Nobody was taking any chances. And to think it all started with a little bit of desertion! Pfft, fuck the Citadel. Fuck the Alliance. There wasn’t any way in hell he was going to face off against an entire Geth fleet. It was suicide.
He set his drink down and dealt his hand, much to the chagrin of the aliens around the table. Which a cocky laugh, he punched a few buttons of a computer installed into the table and he saw the number of credits to his name swell.
“Someone ought to knock you off your high horse, as you humans say.” One deep-throated krogan grumbled. “Or kick you in the quads, at least.”
“Learn to play better and you just might!” Sten goaded, leaning back into his chair. “That’s why you don’t mess with the best.”
“The best, he says,” remarked a similarly disgruntled turian, “the one who spends all his time hiding out in shithole clubs like this one. Maybe if he could keep a crew of pirates together, then he wouldn’t have so much free time on his hands.”
“Oh please,” Sten drawled, “that again? Look, if I said it once, I said it a thousand times: I didn’t need those lowlives. Amateurs like those can’t even hold up a--”
“But mutinies aren’t usually consensual on the captain’s part, are they? They threw your ass into a pod and jettisoned you out into space like they were taking out the trash. Nobody cares about you, Sten. Your bounty isn’t worth shit, and for as long as your annoying ass has been here, nobody has even bothered to try and claim it.”
...Sten rolled his eyes at the memory of the exchange, recounting the moments that lead up to this point. Looks like he ate his words.
It wasn’t but a minute after that did that blasted scouting drone buzz through the crowd, stopped in front of him, and a little red light by the top of its head turn red before deploying two holographic drones of its own and a sardonic, feminine voice demanded that he turned himself it. Immediately alarmed, Sten had just jumped away from the table before they opened fire on his chair.
His lucky chair.
It had been a chase through Omega since that point, but with all the time he spent here, he knew this place like the back of his hand. A well placed proximity mine was enough to stir up enough dust and debris for the bots to lose his trail, and from there, it didn’t take long for him to find a shortcut to the Kima district. One way in, one way out. If there was someone after him, they’d be easy pickings. He set another proximity mine on the stairwell to keep anyone from sneaking up on him from another angle, and upstairs, he comfortably positioned himself next to the window with his sniper rifle. The Volkov X; this shit was top of the line, and he didn’t earn the nickname Deadeye ironically. However came across that bridge was as good as dead.
Surely enough, someone came.
They looked like a young woman, blonde, and wearing a black, lightly-armored suit. She was flanked by her three drones and casually walked across the bridge without a care in the world. Dumb bitch. He knew well enough that taking her out meant taking out the drones too. He carefully lined up his shot as she made her way across, making sure to remain patient, allowing her to get closer for an easier shot and to build up her confidence. If she felt safe, then she wouldn’t be as on guard. As the next minute passed, and the woman made her way to the end of the bridge, Sten smirked.
‘It’s the end of the line for you.’
With bated breath, he pulled the trigger, and a explosion roared from within the chamber, followed by the shattering of glass and an energy projectile ripping through the air and through the woman’s head.
Yet she still stood.
In that very moment, static arced across her body before turning to light, a hologram, like the two defense drones that were at her side, before disappearing. Sten barely had time to react before the two drones unleashed a barrage on his location. He immediately took cover behind the piece of wall below the window as more bit of glass rained down on him. His mind racing for a solution -- he still couldn’t believe he let himself get baited like that! Then, amidst the hail of fire he was under, he heard a thunk! from outside. Did they just launch something? He looked up as a piece of metal soared over his head and onto the floor behind him. It slid across the ground for a few feet and coming to a halt. From the device, a sentry turret was raised, a jet of exhaust allow it to hover in the air as it, too, began to assail him with energy bolts.
Sten cursed and swore as a bolt hit him in his gun toting arm and another in his leg, having just enough strength left to dive behind a large piece of furniture and corner himself. He was desperate for a plan and a way out, and all he had left was his pistol and a shitty old tactical cloak that would buy him a few seconds at best. He winced as he heard the drones outside blow apart the entrance downstairs. He had the mine still situated by the staircase, so that should also…
But as he waited for the sound of the explosion, none came. The sentry turret ripped apart his barricade had suddenly ceased fire, and what would’ve been the ideal moment to come up with a plan thanks to the silence, was spent wondering why his mine didn’t go off and dreading whatever was coming next.
The sound of the woman’s voice echoed through the room, sounding clear as day, “Oh, look at that. Looks like you’re cornered.”
‘Shit.’ Frantically, he attempted to activate a device on his harness. Expecting his form to camouflage, he instead found the device exploding into sparks. ‘Fuck!’
With a last act of defiance, Sten stood on his good leg from behind the furniture and aimed his gun at the drones positioned around him, but as he pulled the trigger, no shots came. He watched sparks fly out from the battery pack and the vent was exhausting out more steam than a pistol should ever have to. He looked up helplessly at the drones cornering him. Did these things remotely sabotage all of his tech?
“Where are you?!” He shouted through the room.
In response, the tool atop the mother drone’s head created an orange-colored holographic display. On it was the video transmission of a blonde-haired woman -- not in armor, but a Hawaiian-printed shirt, and a volus looking over her shoulder. There were asari dancing in the background.
“Hey there.” She said with a smirk on her face. “Looks like you’re in a pretty tight spot.”
Presently…
Kori’s piloting needed some work, Shy thought. All this tossing and turning, one would think she flew them all through an asteroid field. She even had plans for giving the quarian shit later, something along the lines of, “is this how quarians fly?” or “It’s a wonder the migrant fleet isn’t orbiting around some planet like debris.” But the truth of the matter was far less humorous. To think she just wasted the brain power to cash in on a bounty without even getting off her ass just to get shoved into a pod of dysfunctional squares and a B-list horror monster and get framed for something she didn’t even do. Again.
She looked around the ship, eyeballing to see if there was anyone who actually could pull something off like that and get the rest of them in trouble. Zaash? She doubted he was smart enough. Naryxa? Heavens, no, too… uh, so anyway… Kyo? Possibly, ninja boy could probably sneak on board, but maybe too smart to get himself in trouble too. Ardan? Possibly. He does seem like the type to blow people up, possibly not smart enough to not incriminate himself. But that was the problem: all six of them were incriminated. Who wasn’t? Kori and and Cherk?
As Kori’andh explained the shituation, Shy seemed unfazed, still sitting in her chair with her feet propped on top of the table. She gave the people in the room another once over, and even seemed to give an appreciative nod at the accuracy of her own depiction.
“Fucking sweet.” She simply said. “Clever. So, what’s next then? You and shorty are turning us in? Haha, jokes on us, that was the plan all along? Get six chumps on your ship and frame them for an easy bounty?”
Shy scratched her head behind her ear. “Huh… I should’ve thought of that.”
