Mass Effect: Project Seraph

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Hirohashi

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My favorite topic would have to be fantasy but I'm more than willing to take part in just about any genre.
The Citadel was as bustling with activity as ever, perhaps more thanks to the influx of refugees. Though everyone knew about it by now you wouldn't know it by the way the civilians and merchants carried on. That the galaxy was at war with an overwhelming threat.

Yet today marked the birth of a new unit. One virtually no one outside of the program would be made aware of. As far as your average citizen knew, the brand new frigate sitting in bay C-36 was just another ship. One they didn't recognize, but it's purpose and design were a well kept secret.

"I still don't understand, councillor. Why me?" The young Asari, Elana wore a questioning expression on her face. Councillor Tevos was speaking to her candidate over a private communicator, her voice clearly expressing her own growing lack of patience.

"Because Elana, you show great promise and we need someone with experience in combating Cerberus. Right now you are on hand and more than suited for this mission. Now then. You have your orders, the rest of your new team will be arriving shortly including your captain. I don't want to receive any negative reports is that clear?"

"Yes councillor." The monotone to her voice was telling enough. She was simply the best they could manage? What high praise that turned out to be. With a huff the girl placed her cheek in her palm, using her biotics to pull over her drink, slipping the straw between her dark blue lips. "Where is everyone else, anyway?"

"Relax," Tevos tried to reassure the bored sounding maiden. "The council has had to call the team from all over the station."

"Some of us have been here the whole time." The voice came from Nathan, one of the other members for this project. His active camouflage finally vanished, revealing that he had been sitting with his feet propped up in another chair with his hands folded over his stomach.

"Elana, meet Nathan Daniels. He's a human sharpshooter. He'll be a part of your squad." Councilor Tevos informed the surprised looking girl with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"It's a pleasure, Elana. Though you really should mind your manners when talking to a senior."

Elana chuckled, "You? Judging by your looks, I'm at least three times your age."

Nathan simply shook his head before gesturing towards the hologram of councilor Tevos. "I wasn't talking about me, cupcake." Tevos sent Elana a smirk before turning and walking out of the hologram.
 
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To say that Galaetrus was enthused when he received his Spectre commission would be an understatement. It was a great achievement not only for himself and his people, but for all those who served as a Cabal. The distrust was slowly being washed away.

He pulled himself back into reality, and found himself staring dully into the terminal at his desk. Video feed showed him at play with another group of Turians, likely friends and family, long before Palaven had burned. He was holding and laughing with a female in his arms before he powered it all off.

'I should head down. The new squad should be arriving any minute.' Galaetrus had been the first on the ship. He had given it all a good looking over and from then on, spent time personalizing his cabin with various effects: pictures and trinkets, among others.

Galaetrus stood and took a moment to give the room a second glance before making his way out through the airlock and then onto the lift. He gave the AI a verbal command to descend and stop at the CIC for a moment. The exit hissed open and he stepped out onto the bridge, pausing to observe the galaxy map as he waited, eyes trained on a particular planet with vested interest.

Until then, he mulled over what he would say to the crew of the Navarra. A handful of them seemed like they were more trouble than they were worth, but the Council had insisted that they be brought on for a mission that was important to every sentient species, whether they realized it or not.
 
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You'll be piloting the ship.

The phrase had been rattling around his head since he was handed the order some weeks ago and had remained at the surface of his considerations even as he dug down into the nitty-gritty that was the assignment. That his record would be cleared and all that happy junk was only a secondary consideration, that he might end up a hero to the galaxy or at least the higher-ups on the Citadel hadn't even been considered. They were handing him a ship and from what specs he had managed to grab a pretty slick one at that. He held his breath as the airlock cycled, feeling the burn in his chest grow with anticipation of finally setting foot upon the SSV Navarra. With a hiss the atmosphere stabilized, the mechanical hum as the airlock drew open punctuated by a satisfying click.

Shielded from the rest of the world by an opaque faceplate the quarian's face split almost immediately into a too-wide grin. What crew there were bustled along the wide walks or stared with utmost concentration at their workstations, the low murmur they made carrying through the recycled air. Already, he felt at home. Ahead, the galaxy map unfolded like a glittering tapestry, symbols coalescing then flowing across its surface before being swallowed up again and standing above it was the now familiar face of their turian leader. Just like the rest of his kind, straight-backed and rigged. Might as well try to make friends.

Strolling over, Zuor crossed his forearms behind his back, craning as if he were trying to get a good look at what the captain saw. "Got a course laid out, captain?"
 
"I am not the first to arrive," a cool voice noted from behind the Asari. "Or the last," the Salarian added, taking steps forward, as the human infiltrator made his presence known. "T'Nell. Daniels." Tel greeted, a strange sense of familarity contained within her words (a possible response from her thorough research).

Even with the additional intel on the members of Project Seraph and admitting her lack of direct experience with other species outside of her own, she couldn't quite supress her surprise at her team members.Young, Tel thought. That was the word pressed into her mind as she studied the two races with a measured glance. Bearing the importance of the mission on hand, the older Salarian thought they hardly seemed mature enough, especially if their language skills towards each other had any indication towards their experience level. She briefly wondered how well the council had researched their candidates, herself included.

"I am Tel Seleem of the STG, fifth regiment." She introduced, a hand directed towards her chest-plate. "I assume I am expected."
 
Lancaster watched the ship from the outside, looking at it from bridge to engine... he didn't like the fancy and glistening designed ships they had; he was more accustomed to something rugged and scratched... as long as it did it's job he did not care. He started walking in the direction of the airlock... he approached it and opened it, it hissed as it opened up. Entering it the airlock started cycling and it closed behind him, the door to the ship opened up and he headed straight for the elevator to reach where he was supposed to be. There were already a few people gathered, he quietly entered the room and stood in the middle of it, looking at his future -Squad Members- his eyes stopped at the Asari...

He took a sit and lit a cigarette "I am guessing that we are all because they called us here? I did not make mistake in entering this room" he started smoking his cigarette "The name is Lancaster; Lancaster Engelbert Landon" he looked at the people inside the room.
 
"It's good to finally meet you, Seleem. Nathan Daniels, first lieutenant of the Aliance Sixth Fleet." Nathan offered in response, standing upright to better present himself. While he may have added in that playful jab at Elana's expense, he knew when to be serious. That and much like Tel; and likely a few others on the team if their phych profiles were accurate, he too had done his fair share of homework when it came to learning about his soon to be team mates. Tel's dossier didn't say all that much. Not surprising, coming from the STG. He respected where she came from, being special forces as an N7 himself. While officially Nathan ranked just under their captain in a military sense, Galaetrus was a council Spectre and was likely to appoint whoever he trusted the most as his second in command.

Elana on the other hand had crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to show that she felt embarrassed for not realizing that others were already aboard the Navarra. The sounds of the elevator lowering down to their current floor before the doors slid open cuts her off from introducing herself more formally to the two aliens, peering over her shoulder at the second human. The fact his eyes seemed to stop scanning the interior of the ship to look at her in particular was not lost on the young Asari. A typical response from the males of other species and one that left her turning around before reclaiming her seat.

"That's right. For now we're supposed to meet here. The captain is already on board and will be joining us shortly." he informed Lancaster, pivoting in place to face him while he spoke. Nathan knew of him, too. A dangerious man, having worked on Omega. The infiltrator made a mental note to keep an eye on his fellow human.
 
Lancaster looked at the Salarian and the man in uniform... his eyes stopped at the man; military man perhaps he thought to himself "And who is this supposed captain? That nobody met so far?" he looked at the Asari as he took a deep inhale of his cigarette. He then noticed a liquor bar in the corner, he stood up and went to pour himself a drink... he walked over there and picked up a glass; he paused for a second to look at the bottles that were there... he picked out some cognac and poured it in his glass. He walked back over to where he sit and took his seat again, he took a sip of his drink and placed his glass on the table. He eyed the Asari again, she was fairly interesting he thought... "Did any of you had any military experience before? Except for you military man." he looked at them as he waited for their response.
 
Mehara drew quite a few odd looks from passing civillians as she headed towards bay C-36. She didn't blame them. She made quite a strange picture with her midnight skin and the sniper rifle strapped to her back. She could have had her rifle sent to the ship with the rest of her belongings, but she trusted no one but herself with M-97 Viper on her back. When she entered the docking bay, she spent a moment looking at the gleaming bulk of the SSV Narvarra. Her knowledge of military ships only extended to how to sneak on board one, but even she could tell, that the SSV Narvarra was elegantly crafted, if the word crafted could be applied to ships that is. She spared another glance at the smooth curves of the ship then made her way to the airlock.

The inside of the ship was spartan, functional, not decorative. She would get along with this ship, but her whether she would get along with her peers, that was something to find out. The elevator deposited her on the desired floor with a hiss of sliding doors, and she made her way to the gathering of people on silent assassin's feet. She stood a ways away from the group, waiting to see who would acknowledge her first.
 
He seemed...knowledgable, she mused. The Salarian's opinion shifted for the better about the lieutenant. However, her faith was still stretching as Tel caught a glance of T'Nell's strange behavior; her eyes scoped over the latest team member. Landon. The storm of Omega. She briefly recalled his violent background, a sour taste forming in her mouth. It wasn't the violence but the human's methods. He was very much the soldier his file declared he was -- no subtlety.

"Captain Galaetrus Ky'yn, council Spectre, 32 years of age." Tel answered, continuing to rattle off what little background she had found on the Turian, and then, in the same breath, added an assured and firm "yes" on military experience but left it at that as an invisible itch turned her around towards the elevators.

A Drell, and she was staring -- observing the four members. Trouble? No, another member of Project Seraph. Mehara Reika. Her mind went over the female's profile; she acknowleged the Drell with another nod before her eyes fell on the rifle she carried.

"M-97 Viper?" The semi-automatic weapon sent a thrill down her body as she marveled at its features in silence.
 
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Sagran finds himself staring at the SSV Narvarra when he notices the time. He grumbles to himself for letting himself get distracted by the ship when he was expected at a meeting. That's why he adjusts his armor one last time to make sure that is was comfortable and that his two guns were secured. Satisfied with everything he makes his way to the airlock and watches as it opens for him. He steps into the small chamber where the door closes behind him and a warm light washes over his body. He listens as the computer says something about decontaminating him, and it irks him a little that he would be considered dirty. But then again, that's to be expected considering that his missions have taken him into some messy situations. But once the decontamination is finished the second door opens and reveals the inside of the ship. He can instantly spot many of the Turian designs, but he doesn't let himself get distracted by these as well. Instead he makes his way to the lift that will take him down to the meeting area.

Several seconds later he walks out of the small compartment and into the room. He instantly notices the diversity of the other members and feels a smirk form on his face. All that was missing were a Hanar, Elcor and even a Volus. And then he remembers a certain Volus he had to fight. The little guy had many of the same abilities as himself which made him into a little cannonball and almost impossible to hit. But that's just him getting distracted again. Instead he focuses on the races that make up the group. He spots a couple Humans, which is to be expected, but then he sees the odd Slarian and even the Drell. The last one is the most surprising seeing as how not even he has seen very many of them. But he keeps himself from getting distracted again and makes his way to an empty spot.

"I don't suppose any of you know where the Commander of this unit is?"
 
Mehara felt a small streak of posessiveness when the salarian stared at her rifle. "Yes," she nods in response to the salarian's question, and falls silent again. She took a moment to find a seat then settled down to study the other members of the group. She had been sent everyone's dossiers, and could have read them beforehand, should have read them beforehand, but she decided to make an exception for herself this time. These people weren't her targets, they were her allies, and she wanted to know them the normal way, or at least the normal for most people way.

Moments later, the elevator doors slid open again and a turian stepped out. She watched him take an empty spot, then turned her attention back to the other members of the group as the turian asks about the commander.
 
Galaetrus' empty blue orbs reflected the heavenly light that the galaxy map had cast as he contemplated both the speech he'd give and the first mission they were undertaking. His thoughts again were stolen away to the here and now, when he'd been addressed.

"Hm? Yes," His voice flanged with a hint of fatigue. "You'll learn more once I brief the rest of the team. Follow me." Galaetrus turned his back on the navigation system and the ship's new pilot without so much as a solitary look at the Quarian, moving briskly to the lift. Regardless of whether or not Zuor would follow, he descended down to the next deck.

The door parted with a hydraulic sigh and the Spectre stepped onto the crew deck, giving all present a hard once-over, studying each a few seconds before moving onto the next face. He seemed to arrive just shortly before Sagran had questioned the location of the leader for this outfit.

Unsatisfied, he thought to himself. 'One is missing. I can't postpone leaving for too long.' He moved further inside with each step he took met with a reverberating hum of armor to metal, giving the Navarra a submarine feel. Without much adieu, he broke silence in answer to Sagran and the others.

"I am the captain of this vessel, Senior Cabalite Galaetrus Ky'ne. You all know why you've been brought here - to oppose the threat that is the terrorist organization known as Cerberus. I understand how you all may be feeling... Why are we not fighting the Reapers? That our planets are being glassed and our people subjected to genocide while we chase scum across the galaxy," It was easy to see why he was chosen as a Spectre and the spearhead for this project; he was a natural leader with how he spoke.

"But the answer is simple. What we're here to do contributes as much to the war effort. Cerberus is content to hassle our forces left and right, chipping away at what strength we possess that could be used to fight off total annihilation. I've read all of your files, and personally... I cannot fathom what must be going through the Council's head when they chose some of you, but it's not my job to question their authority. It's my job to carry out that authority, and stop Cerberus at any cost."

Galaetrus clutched his hands behind his back as he continued with a slow gait, encircling the squad present like a bird of prey casually stalking food. "I won't lie. There's a good chance some or maybe all of us will die. It's not very inspirational, but it's the truth. But I promise here and now that I'll do everything to prevent that. In order to keep that promise, I need cooperation. Any hesitation, even in the slightest, could doom us all. So give me your all, or get the hell off my ship."
 
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Lancaster started clapping slowly with a slight smirk to his face he stood up and crossed his arms "I will be honest, I came here for the pay and the so called privileges we are going to get... that and the chance to crack some of the Cerberus skulls, and a small debt to ensure is repaid. Hand me the weapons and point me to the battlefield but don't expect to be in control of me when I am out there... I go in and do my job get out and be done with it... I am not a team player nor will I ever will be, you hand me the weapons and I will give you more and beyond. More blood that is." he glared at the Turian "I neither care about anyone's resume and sure as hell don't care if you know about mine... it does not levitate you above the others and will never will, the only thing that it does is pisses people off and gives you odd glares Mr. Spectre... you might be the captain of this here ship and the CO when it comes to things that are of utter importance, but your little speech will not raise morals."

he turned to face all of them "We were called here to do our job and nothing more, we will get a soft bed, money and privileges but never forget where you came and what you are never let anything change you. We came here to bash the Cerberus around, we are currently the backbone of ones army if we fail to destroy the Cerberus we might just give up the war against the Reapers right now and we don't need that. All of the fleets are counting on us to cut them some slack, if taking this weight of their chest is all we can do to ensure that our people will survive then that must be done to our fullest... we shall not back down nor we shall die by the fire of the enemy. The only thing that is going to kill me is my deathbed and I hope it will do the same for you."

he turned to the Turian Captain "Lancaster Engelbert Landon reporting for active duty" he said with a cheeky voice
 
Mehara listened to the captain and the human speak, showing no outward emotion. On the inside, she was worried. The captain's first speech and someone was already talking back. She wasn't sure how much of the human's words were meant to be joking but either way, the undercurrent of challenge in the human's tone was not good for group dynamics. While she did disagree with some of the captain's points and felt that he could have started out better by not indirectly insulting members of the group, those matters were something better brought up in private. She supposed the human wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't a team player. She remained silent and waited to see how the captain would respond.
 
"No official military training, but I can handle myself if that's what you're asking." Elana deliberately left out how she was ex-Eclipse, figuring that if anyone didn't already know, they could always find out later. She didn't want to get into that now.

The elevator doors again hissed to a halt, opening to reveal more squad members. A drell. A turian. No doubt Mehara and Sagran. The team was filling out rather quickly now. Tel's knowledge of their captain continued to impress Nathan, the salarian would prove to be dependable, he thought while he listened to the others get acquainted. The drell in particular caught Nathan's attention if only because of the fact that of the few members of that species he had met before, none of them had been women.

Galaetrus' entrance however was taken notice by everyone. Already donning his armor, the new captain certainly had an authoritative presence about him. While Nathan gave him a look of respect, Elana simply watched him out of the corners of her eyes, not yet realizing who he was. At least until he started to speak. The Asari stood herself up at his introduction, now giving the man more attention. After what had been a decent speech, made up of attempted moral boosts and some other points that were... less so, Lancaster was already picking it apart.

"You should really speak for yourself." Nathan corrected him, sending the other human a cold glare. "Truth be told, very few of us are here simply for the perks. I know I'm certainly not. Though not everything you said was just boasting. This job needs to be done, end of story. I hope you can remember that." There was more he wanted to say to him in a harsher tone, particularly that if his wild antics put another member of the group or their mission at risk, he would not hesitate to make sure he wasn't a problem for very long. The only thing that stopped him was knowing that now was hardly the time to break out into an argument of that nature. He could at least give Galaetrus the chance to talk to him first.
 
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Marcus Lattimore King. Certainly could be described as a unique individual. Others sometimes dismiss him as a crazy. He would probably tell you both, when not on his pills. Young and eager, the vanguard just just as much fun charging a giant mech as he did popping off a dome piece at 100 yards. It meant the same thing, to him. A step closer to picking up the victory. Or at least dieing in the blaze of glory....something like that. Hopefully, this little mission he was borderline roped into doing will bring plenty of good times and good headshots. Cerberus jackasses. Don't they know not to fuck with a man's livelihood who doesn't like to take his meds? Pity.

His currently flip-flopped feet slapped against the ship's floor. Step after step he came closer to the group. The young man had all of his necessary possessions and was whistling a little tune. He could hear people talking but he paid no mind. Who knows who those people were anyways. Could be stranger danger. Besides, this flip-flopped, cargo short wearing, porkie pie hat donning, guy had to get his shit to the room.
"I wonder if I will have a roommate." He said as the elevator doors closed.
 
Galaetrus was polite; he waited to hear the last of Lancaster's little retort before his eyes narrowed and his face adopted the look of 'now let me tell you why you're an idiot.' He took a few steps forward and leaned in so that their eyes were mere inches away from each other, the Turian's solid orbs clearly expressing his discontent. "Look here, Landon, and actually listen this time. I don't have much need for a do-it-yourself psychopath on my team. And if I'm going to put up with you, you're going to have to put up with me. You're going to take my orders, you're going to acknowledge them, you're going to carry them out, and then you're going to keep your mouth shut."

The Turian Spectre was unblinking, and there was a definite edge of annoyance in that flanging voice of his. "Why? Because I need cooperation. If you ride off into the sunset like a cowboy, as you humans say, for every mission, there's going to be death. Not just for Cerberus, but for the people on this ship. Then there won't be a Project Seraph. There won't be a you. There won't be anything left except the Reapers. I don't expect you to like it here, but I expect you to do what you're told, when you're told. For all intents and purposes, your ass is mine. Otherwise, I could care less how you waste your life during your free time."

He'd finally tear his gaze away, and go back to encircling those present. He hadn't taken notice of Marcus, as he was too wrapped up with the upstart human. "This man is a perfect example of the kind of disobedience I don't want out of any of you. I'm not here to ruin your fun. I'm here to oversee this project, and keep you all alive to the best of my ability. Allow me to reiterate; I need cooperation, or this will fail. I need competence, or this will fail. I need your trust, or this will fail. Give me or your all, or get out. If you're still on this ship by the time we leave the dock, I'll assume that's what you all intend to do."

Galaetrus sighed. He sounded exhausted, as if he'd been drained of all his energy since he stepped aboard. He would rub his head in the silence, before he cleared his throat and finally resumed speaking. "Now, if no one else has anything they'd like to add, I'd like to brief you all on the first mission. We're heading to the Pylos nebula, which contains the Kriseroi sysem. For those of you unfamiliar, the Kriseroi system is made up of five planets surrounding a dwarf star by the name of Kriseroi. Council sources have confirmed that on one of those planets, Neidus, there is a Cerberus research base. Neidus is a Post-Garden Class type planet, made up of strictly ice and water. There is a limited native ecology, but there ARE dangerous predators. Temperatures will plunge well below freezing, and we'll only have a short time to find this base before that happens and we'll be forced to evac and try again later. Our job, once inside the base, is to clear it out and capture any data that might prove useful to the fight against the reapers. Afterwords, we'll plant demolitions and destroy it entirely."
 
Sagran could tell already that he's not going to like that particular Human. But then again, most Turians wouldn't. But even so, the man did have a point about the job needing to get done. That's actually the only reason that he's here. He's just another soldier following orders. Still, it did surprise him a bit that he's under the command of another Cabal member. The fellow Turian no doubt felt honored to be a Spectre despite where he came from. Turians like the two of them are not exactly trusted by the rest of their race. In truth it sometimes makes him wish that he was born Krogan, Genophage and all. Now that's a race that knows how to treat their Biotics. Humans don't have it bad either, so long as they are capable of using their skills for combat.

And then the briefing begins. This is the part that actually makes him happy. It will be just like he's at home back in Boot Camp. A frozen planet is just what he needs right now. "Ice and water, huh? I'll have to make sure that I don't get too far ahead of everyone. Unless there are others here with experience in frozen climates?" He didn't really mean to question any of the others about it, but it does raise a good question about one of their squadmates. He looks to the woman in question and tries to figure out how she'll handle the environment. She is a Drell, and considering all reptilian species that he knows of are cold-blooded, so he wonders if she'll be able to handle it or if they can count on her taking a nap in the middle of a gun fight.

"What about you? You going to be okay with the cold?" he asks the only Drell in the group.
 
"I will have no trouble more trouble than the rest of you," Mehara replied. She had done jobs on ice planets before. They were unpleasant, but she would be fine as long as she didn't stay out for too long and kept moving. Still, it was nice to see someone cared.
 
Seleem found herself picking at the details of the mission, a nervous excitement washing over her when something blurred across the corner of her vision.

"Excuse me, Captain -- Landon," interrupted Tel as the elevators hissed for the umpteenth time, "but I believe there is either an intruder on board," she said, doubt hinted in her voice, "or the last team member with an unusual... uniform." She ended pathetically as the hum of the lift drew her eyes in, her gaze focused on the doors before she turned it again to the faces around her. It had to be random selection, the salarian thought. There was no other viable reason for such a team of misfitted heroes.
 
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