2185 CE, 2005 hours...
Omega, Hell's Teeth
Day 1...
They were gone for only 5 hours, by the time they returned to the building Aria had leased for them in the run down, quiet surrounding. A perfect place for laying low and the boys had dubbed it, Hell's Teeth. True to the name,
Hell's teeth had severalwindows making it an excellent killzone, able to box just about anything into a crossfire. Alpha 1-1 were still complaining about the weight in their hands, thanks to Eric as their guide, they managed to bargain with Turian dealers, Volus merchants and other businessmen for up-to-date Kinetic Barriers and Omni-tools all at the price of 95000 credit chits. They were rather fortunate, a total of 7 of the Pigs had a degree of training in Military Engineering, therefore understood the ways of the CMC-400.
The Knietic Barrier Generators, were hooked right next to the fusion reactors, at first, the suits didn't recognise the generators, therefore did not activate, and the HUDs each displayed warning of foreign intrusion causing the 7 engineers to reconfigure the
whole design again, much to their dismay. Meanwhile, the other War Pigs, now devoid of their armor were up for a game of poker, hell, they hadn't this much of peace since Dead Man's Port and that was over a year ago.
Eric had left Hell's Teeth considering he had night shift till' next sunrise. Falks and his original squad, Delta, were cracking mean jokes about the Citadel Races, a number of the Pigs were researching with their Omni-Tools that was temporarily fixed onto their wrists, to look for arms dealers on Omega that could procure a ammunition for them, since their weapons run on gas-magazine system, instead of heatsinks and mass accelerators and element zero.
Grenades were divided equally, each man had his share of smoke grenades, Flashbangs and Frags. The weapons pried from the dead were studied by a couple of Pigs, Ned and Frost, who were master-at-arms once in a ship's armoury, they stripped the
weapons and took notes, what makes them tick, what do they run on, of course s interesting as it might sound, the Pigs, however found it the most boring job given by Falks ever.
The Ghost was at a corner, helmet on his right hand, his left holding acigarette, his C-10 Canister Rifle magnetically strapped to his back. Most of the Pigs steered clear away from the psionic assasin, he was taking a long drag, despite the fact it was old, old enough to lack flavour whatsoever, all of a sudden, a slurred voice jumped him.
"Having fun?"
He paused, before returning to his smoking business, his psionic gift telling him it was just the War-Pig in charge.
"Franklin Toretto,"
He rasped with a curt nod. The mercenary set his back against the wall, just like the Ghost was doing, before resuming his conversation.
"I didn't see you in the caves, back on Char, so why're you here with us?"
The Ghost, a man that looked way too young to even join the military looked Falks in the eyes, and frankly, it's scaring the shit out of him, with his zombie-like stare,
"Wouldn't you wanna know?"
Falks collapsed onto the bed, he was the sole occupant of the room, unlike the other pigs who had a roommate each.
Ten minutes of getting info from that Ghost had really starting to get to his head, which of course he had gone for a round of cursing seconds before losing consciousness,
"Creepy ass faggot, motherf-zzz..."
The next day was a flurry of activity, still no luck on the kinetic barrier generators, somehow the Suit's built in computers were resisting synchronization with the generators, Kessler, the appointed in charge of the engineers had to call it a day, he stayed up all night working out a solution, while the rest of his team soldiered on. Other than that, Bravo squad had gone off to collect the first shipment of 8mm steel tipped spikes, Weiss, rifleman from Alpha had suggested orders for hollow point and armor piercing ammunition for that extra kick, since the steel tipped spikes do little more than maim, of course the Pigs were up for the idea of having a trick or two up their sleeve.
So Falks set him for specifications on said ammunitions to their supplier, a shady arms dealing group known as "Red Tails," they dabble in weapons development not just selling them on the black market.
The Ghost was nowhere to be found, though he promised Falks to not wonder off, and to follow his orders until a proper Dominion superior can replace him.
Falks himself was busy playing target practise in his combat suit, though the power armors still had a perfect 100% integrity, he was hoping if they could hire a technician, one who has resources to replicate neo-steel, and patch the suits up when they get banged down. He let the spike fly and got rewarded with the dummy's head explode in a shower of visceral red paint.
"Good shot, sir!"
Cheered one of the newbies from Delta, Private Travis "Black' Dollohorf. He was there to help reload the rifle for him, the other shooters scowled and complained he should stop using his targeting systems.
Minutes went on, in the shooting range, until Warren Birth, rifleman of Charlie squad and engineer for the attachment of the kinetic barrier generator onto the CMC-400s came barging in.
"Sir, we got it working,"
The entire War Pigs mercenaries including the Ghost, now known as LT. Swash, flooded the working workplaces where the suits are being worked on. There was whooping, laughter, whispering, all kinds of noises capable of being made by man. Finally, Falks called for a vote who should be the test subject, he did so just to shut the Pigs up, true to their word, War Pigs are the noisiest, most nefarious and yet, the most badasses of them all, a lucky Peter "Diamond" Rodriguez got the title test subject, he was always the first guy who wanted a piece of the ass-kicking and the last guy who want out, so it was no surprise there he got voted in.
It's natural to feel fear when you are about to be shot at, Peter was in fact feeling a crap ton of it and having second thoughts of actually diving in headfirst.
There was another reason to feel fear, one of the engineers pointed out the Kinetic Barriers may not function as according to plan, and Peter really did not want to become a casualty of an accident, those 8mm hollow point spikes used for the test really kicked ass and should the Kinetic Barrier fail to hold, would not only eviscerate the suit, but leave an exit wound big enough for a Zergling to jump through.
He trailed his eyes on the upper right corner of his HUD, where the Kinetic Barrier shielding was displayed as a long and slim rectangular blue bar.
"Peter you ready?"
It was the shooter himself, Corporal Carter Woods, Rifleman of Bravo squad. Peter couldn't back out now, not in front of his squadmates where they would for sure, tease his failed bravado. He could only managed a quick nod, shut his visor and began praying like a madman.
"Alright, test in 5...4...3...2...1...Mark!"
Peter closed his eyes. Chak! then... silence. The War Pigs stood there, waiting for Peter's reaction, while the merc himself had slowly opened his eyes, he found himself still upright, no searing pain or blood all over him.
He looked over the display and saw the kinetic barrier was slashed to 2/3 it'soriginal length, hollow points are real nasty indeed for a third of the barrier was gone in just one shot. With a sigh of relief, he popped open his visor and laughed, hysterically, the other Pigs were too busy whooping and exchanging credits to notice.
2185 CE,
Omega, Terminus Systems
2 months, 1 day after first contact...
The War Pigs had made themselves known in the galaxy as one of the most notorious and dangerous of all mercenary groups, they have carved a bloody empire of their own, several gangs and rival mercenaries have gone against them in combat, but very few survive the battles.
The Pigs are almost every month in the newspaper headlines and debated about in Citadel talk shows, many were wondering where did they get their hands on such advanced technology such as miniature fusion reactors, and the Powered Suits.
Although most renounced scientists dismissed those claims as over-exaggerated delusions of rag-tag security forces yet the evidence of thier existence was utterly overwhelming, then again, if someone were to be researching on said technology, the Citadel, Spectres, STGs would be the first to know, as well as the Illusive Man and the Shadow Broker.
Everyone knew where they were, but most steered clear from them, in the span of 2 months of intense shootouts and assasinations, the Pigs have yet to have a fatal casualty, further elevating their dangerous status. Aria has stated countless times how lucky she is to have such valuable assets.
They do not dabble in illegal activites, only as security personnel and local enforcers much to the dismay of the Council who so wishes to send a Spectre to bring them in, where their technology could be studied.
All, the same, the Illusive Man, has kept a close eye on their progress, though most of these strange advanced humans have gone into hiding and lying low, up to the point where they're almost untraceable but the War Pigs, ever a fan of explosions, bar fights and good ol' shootouts has kept the Illusive Man updated on their progress in the galaxy regularly for each mercenary job they accept.
100% success rate, only another team he knew of in the galaxy had that kind of success rate. Commander John Shepard.
John Shepard, age 32, previously resurrected by Pro-Human extremist organisation known as only as Cerberus, rubbed the back of his neck, a tiring day, it had been, cutting through Eclipse mercenaries just to rescue then re-recruit Garrus Vakarian, or as he calls his vigilante self, Archangel.
The Turian's skills had been honed on unfortunate mercs, where previously it was a number of Geth, and some mercs. Anyways, the shower had done it's job now, it's up to the well earned rest aboard the Normandy.
He set his head down, trying to drown out all his problems, the Reapers mostly, hell bent on killing everything organic, not that many people believed him, some accused him of being delusional when that Prothean beacon messed him up, even when the Geth and that Reaper, Sovereign, attacked the Citadel itself, the pompous asses of the Citadel Councilors still refuse to acknowledge it's existence and focus on the real threat when they've now taken to patrolling the Terminus System.
Like that's gonna stop the Reapers. And now, whole human colonies are emptied, not a single soul left, dead or alive, abducted by an enigmatic race known only as the Collectors, which resides somewhere beyond the Omega 4 Relay.
Threat after threat appearing, and Shepard is on a desperate race against time to not only unite the races against the Reapers but stop the Collectors from taking away more humans and if possible, free those enslaved.
However, things are looking bleak as ever, having relying on funding from a terrorist organisation can only go so far. By now, Shepard had fallen into a dreamless state of semi-consciousness, when there was a knock on his quarters' door. He sat up with a groan,
"Come in,"
He slurred. It Miranda Lawson, Cerberus' liason and the second in command of the Normandy, next to Commander Shepard. She stuck her head in, before speaking in her thick Australian accent,
"Commander, I apologise, but the Illusive man wishes to speak to you, he-"
Upon seeing Shepard dozing off, she raised her voice,
"Commander! Now, I've got your attention, head to Communications room."
The Illusive Man's transmission was already there when Shepard walked in,
"Shepard, you look worse for wear, then again, I'd like to apologise for interrupting your beauty sleep,"
The Illusive man's prosthetic eyes pierced Shepard's gaze as he spoke, sending a slight chill running down his spine.
"Don't worry about that, so, mind telling me, what you got?"
The Illusive Man leaned ever closer to the screen before speaking, his voice barely a whisper,
"Tell me, Shepard, have you ever heard of the War Pigs?
Chapter redone.