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Survivor00
Star
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
Mila'Velgas nar Iptomik had not expected her Pilgrimage to wind up like this. She had not expected to be marooned on Omega, had not expected her ship to be sold off for scrap by a double-dealing mechanic, and certainly had not expected to wind up with the Blue Suns wanting her head on a platter. Of course, while the first two were a tragic accident and a case of poor judgment respectively, she could only blame herself for the third.
Only a few months into her Pilgrimage, and having had no luck on the Citadel in her search, Mila had started searching in other places across the galaxy, finding herself at the mining station of Omega. Her ship had malfunctioned - something she was quickly starting to think was not an accident - and she had been forced to land on the former asteroid. She had quickly been approached by a mechanic, who offered to repair her ship - at an outrageous price - but she jumped on the chance to get off of the station. Even on the Migrant Fleet, words of Omega's depravity were passed around, and as a quarian not familiar with the ways the galaxy worked, she'd just wanted to get off the station as fast as possible. But, the 'mechanic' had other ideas, and instead both took most of her credits and promptly sold off her ship for scrap and more credits. Now, stranded, with no way to get home, she'd spent the last of her credits to get a 'roof' over her head. She did not want to sleep in the alleyways like she had seen so many others do.
She wound up with a cramped 'room', that she was certain at one point had been a storage closet, but fortunately for her, life on the Fleet had prepared her for that more than anything else she had encountered so far. She spent a few days in the room, crying over how pathetic she was, how she might never see the Fleet again, how she would only last until she ran out of the nutrient paste she had been provided. Charity did not exist here. Even on the Citadel, as biased as they were against her kind, they still had places she could stay, or even turian cuisine she could eat. Finally pulling herself together enough to be functionable, she set out trying to get off of the station. Hopping a ride on a ship was out - most species were wary of her kind, especially following the Geth attack on the Citadel, and others wanted...'favors'.
Most of the ships that docked with Omega also crewed rather unsavory sorts - Batarian raiders, vorcha, krogan - and she was certain going with them would even be worse than staying on Omega. So, that limited her options to finding work on Omega itself. She'd found herself 'working' for a batarian, essentially as a front to make his own goods look better. Of course, the prices he forced her to sell at made her look even more like a beggar and thief than people already assumed, and she'd received more than a few threats against her. Her reward for four weeks of what was essentially slavery? 400 credits. She could buy part of a ship with that amount. Maybe the chair. But, she couldn't exactly back out of her contract with the batarian, not for a while, and few credits were better than no credits at all. She could just barely pay her rent with that.
But...she would never get off Omega on that kind of pay. So, she'd gone to the Blue Suns. It took her long enough to even get to their recruitment office in Afterlife, and even longer to convince them that having a quarian in their employ was not going to be a burden. She could hack nearly any security system in existence, calculate data faster than most organics could (Only salarians were better.) and her extensive knowledge of machines finally convinced the mercenaries to take her in. It was a risk, but...if her plan worked, she would be off Omega and returning to the Migrant Fleet within a month.
She'd been given almost unrestricted access to the Blue Suns' data streams, she could see where money was coming and going, and discretely began skimming off funds to a secret account she had created. It was stupid, stealing from one of the biggest criminal organizations in the Terminus Systems, but she was desperate enough to give it a try. She'd collected a decent sum, almost enough to buy the ship she needed to return home, when the Blue Suns caught on. Mila had hacked one of their YMIR security mechs to stall them, and give her time to download her data and escape. Of course, this just lead her back to her first problem, how, in the names of her Ancestors, was she going to get off Omega?!
She rushed back to her living space in the slums, quickly gathering her belongings and what little sentimental valuables she had left, and hacking the door to lock behind her. With luck, they would think she had locked herself in her room and waste time trying to unlock the door. Of course, she doubted that her luck would last, meaning she needed to be off this station as soon as she could. Even with a population of 7.8 million, it would not take long for an organization like the Blue Suns to find a lone quarian, especially when they had their mind set to it. In her haste, she accidentally even ran into one of the Blue Suns wandering around the Slums. He must had either not gotten the orders, or thought she was another quarian - just because they were rare, didn't mean there weren't other quarians on Omega - and he shoved her down with disgust.
"Watch where you're going!" He snarled, not noticing how she froze in absolute terror. Her eyes were focused on the assault rifle that he held in his hands. Even a short burst would kill her outright. While her suit could be compartmentalized to slow or stop infection, but it could not stop a stream of gunfire to her torso. Mila managed to get to her feet, babbling some sort of an apology, and backed away. Once she was outside of the guard's vision, she bolted.
"Keelah..." She panted, climbing into one of the X3M shuttles and sealing the cockpit. For some slightly added protection, she darkened the windows, hoping at least to keep from being seen. Activating the interface, she piloted the shuttle up and out towards the docks, keeping her eyes peeled for gunships. Mila did not know the troubles that the Blue Suns would go through to find her, but she did not want to find out... The flight to the docks took about ten minutes, but for her it seemed like hours. Her body was throwing hormones into her blood, her reflexes growing twitchier, her heart racing in her chest. "Come on, come on, you bosh'tet!" She snapped at the shuttle, although there was not the vehicle's fault. "Calm yourself, Mila. You make mistakes if you think like this..." She warned herself. She carefully maneuvered the shuttle down towards the docks, and had hardly waited until the craft had landed to hop out, ignoring the safety warnings the shuttle tossed at her.
She tried to blend in with the swarms of aliens meandering about the docks, looking for any possible ships that could carry her. She was even willing to pay them some of her stolen credits, as long as they got her off of Omega and out of the Terminus System. She spotted two Blue Suns mercs charging through the crowds, and she quickly ducked down behind some crates until they were past, and darted off again. She hadn't gotten far when she stumbled into someone else, being knocked back onto her ass. She quickly checked her mask first and her pockets second, before breathing out with a sigh of relief. Looking up, she found herself looking up into the glaring eyes of a human...
Only a few months into her Pilgrimage, and having had no luck on the Citadel in her search, Mila had started searching in other places across the galaxy, finding herself at the mining station of Omega. Her ship had malfunctioned - something she was quickly starting to think was not an accident - and she had been forced to land on the former asteroid. She had quickly been approached by a mechanic, who offered to repair her ship - at an outrageous price - but she jumped on the chance to get off of the station. Even on the Migrant Fleet, words of Omega's depravity were passed around, and as a quarian not familiar with the ways the galaxy worked, she'd just wanted to get off the station as fast as possible. But, the 'mechanic' had other ideas, and instead both took most of her credits and promptly sold off her ship for scrap and more credits. Now, stranded, with no way to get home, she'd spent the last of her credits to get a 'roof' over her head. She did not want to sleep in the alleyways like she had seen so many others do.
She wound up with a cramped 'room', that she was certain at one point had been a storage closet, but fortunately for her, life on the Fleet had prepared her for that more than anything else she had encountered so far. She spent a few days in the room, crying over how pathetic she was, how she might never see the Fleet again, how she would only last until she ran out of the nutrient paste she had been provided. Charity did not exist here. Even on the Citadel, as biased as they were against her kind, they still had places she could stay, or even turian cuisine she could eat. Finally pulling herself together enough to be functionable, she set out trying to get off of the station. Hopping a ride on a ship was out - most species were wary of her kind, especially following the Geth attack on the Citadel, and others wanted...'favors'.
Most of the ships that docked with Omega also crewed rather unsavory sorts - Batarian raiders, vorcha, krogan - and she was certain going with them would even be worse than staying on Omega. So, that limited her options to finding work on Omega itself. She'd found herself 'working' for a batarian, essentially as a front to make his own goods look better. Of course, the prices he forced her to sell at made her look even more like a beggar and thief than people already assumed, and she'd received more than a few threats against her. Her reward for four weeks of what was essentially slavery? 400 credits. She could buy part of a ship with that amount. Maybe the chair. But, she couldn't exactly back out of her contract with the batarian, not for a while, and few credits were better than no credits at all. She could just barely pay her rent with that.
But...she would never get off Omega on that kind of pay. So, she'd gone to the Blue Suns. It took her long enough to even get to their recruitment office in Afterlife, and even longer to convince them that having a quarian in their employ was not going to be a burden. She could hack nearly any security system in existence, calculate data faster than most organics could (Only salarians were better.) and her extensive knowledge of machines finally convinced the mercenaries to take her in. It was a risk, but...if her plan worked, she would be off Omega and returning to the Migrant Fleet within a month.
She'd been given almost unrestricted access to the Blue Suns' data streams, she could see where money was coming and going, and discretely began skimming off funds to a secret account she had created. It was stupid, stealing from one of the biggest criminal organizations in the Terminus Systems, but she was desperate enough to give it a try. She'd collected a decent sum, almost enough to buy the ship she needed to return home, when the Blue Suns caught on. Mila had hacked one of their YMIR security mechs to stall them, and give her time to download her data and escape. Of course, this just lead her back to her first problem, how, in the names of her Ancestors, was she going to get off Omega?!
She rushed back to her living space in the slums, quickly gathering her belongings and what little sentimental valuables she had left, and hacking the door to lock behind her. With luck, they would think she had locked herself in her room and waste time trying to unlock the door. Of course, she doubted that her luck would last, meaning she needed to be off this station as soon as she could. Even with a population of 7.8 million, it would not take long for an organization like the Blue Suns to find a lone quarian, especially when they had their mind set to it. In her haste, she accidentally even ran into one of the Blue Suns wandering around the Slums. He must had either not gotten the orders, or thought she was another quarian - just because they were rare, didn't mean there weren't other quarians on Omega - and he shoved her down with disgust.
"Watch where you're going!" He snarled, not noticing how she froze in absolute terror. Her eyes were focused on the assault rifle that he held in his hands. Even a short burst would kill her outright. While her suit could be compartmentalized to slow or stop infection, but it could not stop a stream of gunfire to her torso. Mila managed to get to her feet, babbling some sort of an apology, and backed away. Once she was outside of the guard's vision, she bolted.
"Keelah..." She panted, climbing into one of the X3M shuttles and sealing the cockpit. For some slightly added protection, she darkened the windows, hoping at least to keep from being seen. Activating the interface, she piloted the shuttle up and out towards the docks, keeping her eyes peeled for gunships. Mila did not know the troubles that the Blue Suns would go through to find her, but she did not want to find out... The flight to the docks took about ten minutes, but for her it seemed like hours. Her body was throwing hormones into her blood, her reflexes growing twitchier, her heart racing in her chest. "Come on, come on, you bosh'tet!" She snapped at the shuttle, although there was not the vehicle's fault. "Calm yourself, Mila. You make mistakes if you think like this..." She warned herself. She carefully maneuvered the shuttle down towards the docks, and had hardly waited until the craft had landed to hop out, ignoring the safety warnings the shuttle tossed at her.
She tried to blend in with the swarms of aliens meandering about the docks, looking for any possible ships that could carry her. She was even willing to pay them some of her stolen credits, as long as they got her off of Omega and out of the Terminus System. She spotted two Blue Suns mercs charging through the crowds, and she quickly ducked down behind some crates until they were past, and darted off again. She hadn't gotten far when she stumbled into someone else, being knocked back onto her ass. She quickly checked her mask first and her pockets second, before breathing out with a sigh of relief. Looking up, she found herself looking up into the glaring eyes of a human...