This is the moment, Mag-Tay comes sloshing into the air lock. "Wow, sure is crowed in here today. And you know what I don't think I want to know, I'm just gonna find a nice corner of the ship and pretend we aren't going into the abyss."

" Look helmsman, if this top secret operation was at your pay grade, you would have bloody well been told about it, by me. But since it's not, you saw nothing, NOTHING! Especially if Fury asks."

Resuming the walk with one step before some ridiculous Scottish claptrap erupted behind him.

" For the love of Slannesh's inappropriate touching tentacles, I swear if it's not one thing it's another. What are you doing, not putting together that sweat ass crisis suit I suplexed, and being here, which is not the vehicle bay? And for your information, we are taking this WINK ryncol WINK, over to the pizza barge, to pay for pizza."

And with that there was one more step before Fury so rudely interrupted the walk from getting any further.

"Hey, don't talk to my friend... krogan that way. I don't talk to your friends like that, mostly because you don't have those, but I probably wouldn't if you did. I mean I talk that way to your superiors, and of course everyone we need to deal with, but that's part of my charm. And for your information, I am trying to get him off the ship, with the WINK ryncol WINK, but everyone questions me like I'm a dangerous lunatic."

With a surge of psychic power Corvus ripped open a gate linking Marv's ship and the Arastozka, before hurling the engine directly through it, hoping the lessened distance made it so no daemon incursion happened on either side, or at the very least fun daemons, like nurglings, not scary ones like greater ones ripping through the walls.

" I didn't want to do that, but no, everyone questions Corvus, and now I've done something dangerous and unpredictable, like always instead of being semi-responsible. Hopefully this whole thing pays off in dividends, which means you won't have a grip on the vacation funds."

"Nobeard...Was that what I think it was?"

Corvus hurls both the large box that is totally ryncol and Marv threw the tear in reality and then it collapses. A shock wave erupts threw the ship but luckily Nobeards' runes are strong enough to dampened it down to just give everyone a flash headache. Nobeards' runes are destroyed and will have to be restored. In victory Corvus takes a swig of his Intoxicator and is shocked to find it taste like water. He tries switching the substance and the same thing happens. It occurs to him that the higher powers decided to reward his actions by making all booze become water in his mouth and that this will last for a few days to a week. But other than that all is well.

Now everyone stands around Corvus wondering WTF just happened.

Fury grabbed his now aching head. "Something you did is going to come back to haunt us. I know this somehow."

He gritted his teeth through the headache, and continued to everyone. "We have a mission. Lots of orks, backline rescue op, low profile if possible. Any questions? Because we leave in the hour."

"Just one. Do we have any sedatives?"

"No, impossible. This can't be. It has to work. Why have you forsaken me in my seconds of need Dark Lady!?"

Corvus drops to his knees pouring water out of the Intoxicator, while pounding the deck with his other fist.

"It's all mixers, no booze. I'm dangerously close to being sober! Who knows what will happen if I'm confronted with a clear mind and all the terrible things I've done, a depression spiral, suicide..."

Corvus's head perks up for second, as his mind cleared just enough to remember he had a full bar in his quarters.

"Surely that's safe! We may yet make it out of this with my lack of sobriety!"

Corvus ignores everyone else, as he's terribly self-centered and ran back to his quarters, upending the bottle of ryncol, on the plan of go big, or go sober.

"Yes, He ripped open a portal an' threw th' krogan an' 'at box threw it. Weel, mah runes jist saved us frae gantin' death frae psyker backlash...Ain got destroyed in th' process. Damn it noo aam gonnae hae tae dae 'at again."

Translation:"Yes, he ripped open a portal and threw the Krogan and that box threw it.
Well, My Runes just saved us from horrible death From Psyker backlash...And got destroyed in the process. Damn it Now I'm going to have to do that again."

Fury had to take a few moments both to process Corvus's insane aversion to alcohol, interpreting his actions as meaning "no, I don't have any questions" and he took a second moment to translate what Nobeard was saying. He had no idea what arcane dialect the Eldar was using if the micro-translators had to struggle so much with it.

"We can get sedatives, although why you think the hostage will fight that much is up for grabs. We would also have to give them to the hostage through a means that wouldn't rupture his suit. Hypodermic needle risks a small chance of killing the volus." It didn't even occur to Fury that Mag-Tay might be aiming for personal use.

"Good work, and keep doing what you have to do to keep us alive. I have a special order to make before we launch. This will be the sole reason for a delay, barring something else stupid." He was wondering both a) what he was going to use to suppress Corvus's more insane psychic powers, and b) how he was going to get Corvus to cooperate with this, given the Astartes's penchant for selective intelligence.

The Destroyer Arastozka- Corvus's room

You chug the ryncol and find that it too taste like water. It is at this moment, due to your astartes hyper-metabolism that you are now completely sober. It dawns on you that this is going to be a real bad week. At least you got your drugs.

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To Nobeard:

You manage to reconstruct your runes before take off.

To Mag-Tay:

You get your hands on some sedatives.

To Fury:

Checking on specter requisitions you find that their are a few ways to suppress psychic powers.

1. You can requisition a anti-psychic collar usually used for human size psychers. You can get your hands on one meant for a Krogan, but you will have to convince Corvus to remove his helmet. The collar comes with a device to alter it on and off which has a range of 300 yards.

2. You can requisition a drug WEX-1257 that is used in the psycher sanctioned schools to temporary suppress psychic powers. It's effects is about 4 grams equals 6 hours of inactivity for a standard humanoid. 60 grams for a Krogan.

Note: The reason you are looking up the effects to Krogans is because their are no know test on Astartes.

After you make a decision on this subject, a few hours later you order crew to stations and the Arastozka takes off to its destination, the military world of the renowned hero, Shepard.

OOC: I will post a continuation to your destination soon, but if any of you wish to post a short story of what your doing during this trip please do. I don't care what it is as long as it fits the story, hell your characters can just be talking to each other. 

Drake looked at both options on the table. The drugs would likely be an easier sell, but were temporary and untested on the robust physiology of the Astartes, especially one as chemically hardened as Corvus's. Convincing Corvus to remove his helmet was not going to be the hard part, as far as Drake was concerned, but rather how to convince him that it was something he would want to wear.

Refuge in audacity might be the only approach to get the collar on. Forcing the issue would result in a potentially lethal encounter, one that would just bring up the "why don't we just space him" question again.

He knocked on Corvus's door, collar in hand. He had an idea, one that was really stupid, but it was the best option he had for dealing with the unstable psychic Astartes.

The situation is dire. Soberity sneaking in like a thief in the night. Without alcohol, then there is but one solution, doing all the drugs currently available. Opening his drug closest, Corvus looked over the many pills, crystals, liquids, and powders before grabbing a kilo of ultra coke and his Astartes^tm combat knife. Slashing it open and then very carefully arranging it into neat lines with the blade on an ornate golden platter, then diving helmet first into it, his modified coke vacuum doing all the snorting for him. Then a knock on his door.

"WHOTHEHELLISITI'MFIGHITNGSOBERITYHERE!"


"Maybe it's someone to take me to the Citadel!"

"MAYBEIT'SASPACEMONSTERTOADDYOUTOHISTROPHYCOLLECTIONYOUGOLDENDINGUS!"

Corvus moved over to the door and hit the open button 75 times in quick succession while waiting for it to open, one of the advantadges of ultra coke, you get real twitchy.

"AHHFURY,DIDYOUBRINGALLTHEDRUGSTOALLEVIATEMYSUFFERING.WHATISTHAT?ISTHATACOLLAR?ITDOESN'TMATCHYOUROUTFITANDITWON'TBRINGOUTTHEREDINYOUREYES.GIVEITTHEDWELF,THEYLIKEJEWELERY."

OOC:I'm aware that Corvus not spacing makes it hard to read, but cocaine is a hell of a drug, and ultra coke is worse.

"It's not for me." Drake took a moment to try and take in...well, Corvus. There was a reason he had an outstanding rule on the ship that going into Corvus's room was business only. "Out of curiosity, what was in the box you were giving to the Krogan? Because whatever it was, it is certainly his now."

He was well aware of Corvus's selective intelligence, and he found it annoying that Corvus somehow considered him authority. Perhaps that was for the best: Corvus, if he actually applied himself, would likely be in command of the Arastozka and Fury would be his second, not the way it was now. Fury, on thinking back, was grateful Corvus never was willing to apply himself to earn Council trust, because some of the other Specters had reputations and demeanor comparable to an ancient Terran emperor named Caligula.

"THEREWASNOTHINGINTHAT...box outside of a revolution in pizza delivery. See, this is why I need the magic alcohol button. One kilo lasted about 30 seconds with this damned Astartes metabolism. And if I get sober, I start thinking about all the stuff I've done, like that Tau I turned literally inside out, manually."

Corvus tapped his armored beak, debating whether to snort another kilo, or use some of his many other drugs.

"How rude, you are my "BOSS" and I haven't even invited you in for a drink. Would you care to come in for a glass of water on the rocks, since my many bottles of high quality alcohol all now seem to be high quality h2o."

Corvus walked over to his bar and picked up a goblet of fine Q'sal crystal and dropping in one ice cube, before he looked over to the tv and seeing the grinning daemon which informed him he had no connection.

" Pick which bottle you'd like your water from, since they all seem to contain it now. Also, when you call the El..dwarf in here to get his new jewelry, ask him what he did to my powers. I can't even watch TV now, and I need to know if this a side effect of the dreaded sober state or if's he's done something dumb, like dampening our psychic powers, so if anything even more terrible happened during my latest outburst like say... a nurgling infestation, we wouldn't have our psychic powers to deal with it."

"So, you gave him something that will either transport him through hell more effectively, or something that's going to make all of his pizzas self-animate and deliver themselves to be eaten. Got it." Drake rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you need to run this sort of thing past me before you try and smuggle them off the ship. This could have earned us both a substantial bonus if it was something the Citadel's eggheads could figure out how to use."

He actually did enter Corvus's room, but wasn't feeling up to a drink. "Anyhow, I'll get to the point. This fashion accessory is something I want you to wear, as a way to stop this sort of thing from happening again on the ship. As long as you wear this on the ship, you should always be drunk when you drink on the ship."

Nobeard was sitting in the vehicle bay staring at the new modified Crisis Suit.
He was thinking very hard about the pros and cons of covering the thing with Runes and Wards against various threats

"Uncle Advar, Whit dae ye hink abit coverin' th' crisis suit wi' runes an' wards? Ah hink Ah can dae it withit interferin' wi' th' workings ay th' suit."

Translation: Uncle Advar, What do you think about covering the Crisis Suit with Runes and Wards? I think I can do it without interfering with the workings of the suit.

Advar ponders for a minute stroking his beard.

"Ay lad, I not be worried about yer runes f'ing with te suit and I be sure tey would help against the malefic powers, but I be worried what would happen when said ruins be destroyed seeing as many things will be shooting at cha. However, in te end, its your choice lad."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:54, Sun 04 June 2017.

" Please, like any scientist could even begin to know the wonders of my pizza revolution. They'd want to use it for safe instantaneous troop and supply transport, instead of getting a fresh baked pie anywhere in the known universe. The private sector is where innovation happens Fury, not the military-industrial complex."

The mention of the collar being able to allow the booze to flow freely gave him pause. He knew what it was, but he also knew that A) it was never tested on Asartes, as no one would willingly submit to it, and 2) it had never been placed upon an acid spitting superhuman.

" You know, I know you're playing me, but I'll do it. Place it on the table, and I'll put it on after you've left. You know the rules about my helmet, no removing it when others are around. Ork snipers are insidious, their reach everywhere, and so long as I have my helmet, I have some protection."

Drake allowed himself a smile. "To be honest, Corvus, if I'm playing you, it's only through omission. It should help you get drunk again. Just make sure you are whatever passes for sobriety when we arrive at Shepherd."

"And we are the military-industrial complex, numbnuts. If you had something innovative, then it happened here. But hey. Maybe you will get lucky and he'll become a wealthy krogan who actually feels a sense to those who helped them." He stopped at the door. "You're a terrible soldier and a great warrior, Corvus. Don't lose your best traits."

Corvus inspects that collar. Its durable enough that even your enhance strength can't break it. You put it on and the collar latches, it can't be removed without an electronic release command which you surmise that Fury has. Within 10 seconds you lose your connection to the warp. You grab the Intoxicatior which still produces booze on command even without a warp link, and take a swig. You are delighted to find that the alcohol going down your gullet is indeed alcohol, and the world is right again well except that you don't have warpflix anymore.

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The Arastozka Mass jumps to the Krogan DMZ, and from there travels to the neighboring Wathars system. The FTL flight takes 20 hours and 32 minutes. When the ship arrive and approaches planet Shepard, Fury notices various explosions erupting from one side of the planet. On closer exception the explosions are coming from massive AA guns that are firing erratically into space which it turn contains a large amount of debris in the thermosphere consisting of destroyed ships.

The Arastozka is hailed by an escort vessel "the Brukore" which ask for identification. After that the Brukore escorts you to Normandy base located in Prutacka city. Upon landing you noticed that the city is built like a fortress with surrounding walls and that the east side of the city is under siege. Your helmsmen informs you that this is literary the border line between the two forces.

OOC: At this time I would like all of you to tell me your weapon load outs. Fury and Mag-Tay choose your omni-tool powers. You are all prepping in the armory before you leave, except for Corvus, which all his stuff is in his room. I have weapons and tech powers listed in "Da Technology Mass Effect", and don't just tell me what your taking, make it a story as to why you are taking them.

Nobeard was looking at the N7 Piranha. The weapon itself has good performance for what he need... but an idiot designed the placement for the drum.

He takes it to his Uncle

"Guid day uncle,the placement fur thes drum was gart by an divit. coods ye help me move th' drum somewhaur sane?"

Translation:Hey Uncle,the placement for this drum was made by an idiot. Could you help me move the drum somewhere sane?

Drake returned to his quarters, in preparation for the upcoming fight. He moved the usual reserve of omni-gel in front of him, activated his tool, and transformed the inert material into something more useful.

First, a Pheaston...he had considered the N7 Typhoon, having strong nostalgia for the weapon and a sense of loyalty to human made products, but the turian machine gun was a better assault weapon. If he were defending a static position, he would have recommended the Typhoon, but his mission demanded mobility.

M-11 Suppressor...he favored the N7 Eagle normally, but his mission demanded silence as well, with the Pheaston actually being the weapon he was taking for his escape.

For both weapons, he loaded up on Shredder rounds. His omni-tool's workload dropped by 20%, and then he added the Omni-Fist on top of that, which he felt should crush any ork in hand-to-hand flat, dropping it another 20%. The Tactical Cloak was worth a look for scouting; he would need to see what Mag-Tay was bringing along. The Tactical Scan might be essential for finding the scientist in the first place, if he had been told that the scientist had an electrical device that was unique to him.

Finally, the Flamer upgrade. Six seconds of fire before needing a bit of a recharge, but that would be enough to burn these creatures to ashes. And six seconds could be eternity on the receiving end. He just hoped he didn't feel the need to use it in the building the scientist was in, unless it was to cover an escape.

That left his device at 30%. Good enough. He just hoped those rookies Citadel had sent in had some understanding of what they were doing.

That gave him a reminder. He needed to meet the new people in person. Speak to this hotshot quarian pilot, Jeeho, and see who else was special or thought they were.

He got up, turned the lights out in his quarters, and walked to the cargo hold. It would be a bit of a trip anyways.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:19, Sun 04 June 2017.

Advar looks at the gun with a grin on his face.

"Ay lad, it be coincidence but I saw that gun awhile ago and was wondering how te bloody hell you be using te iron sight? Then I realized there was no iron sight. I always be wondering why many of the guns our "Nation" be supplying don't have any proper sights. Anyway, I'm rambling on, back to the gun."

He turns, lifts his hand to his mouth and calls out.

"Oi Jeeho! Grab te Gar! Me nephew needs a new gun!"

A quarian walks out of the shop caring a gun that looks like the N7 Piranha but has the drum on the bottom and actually has iron sights. She hands you the gun.

"Nephew this be Jeeho. She's my new assistant and a damn good one at that. She also te one that redesigned this gun. Note that it be a bit heavier than that Piranha but ye can handle it. As for da name I decided to name it after another earth fish that also likes meat, te Gar."

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OOC: Message To Fury, You are half synthetic, your cybernetics are designed to be resistant to EMP, meaning your body wont shut down but it will hurt like hell. In addition any weapons specifically designed to take down synthetics physically will affect you the same way if they hit your cybernetics.

Drake contacted Caslius on one of the wall intercoms. "Bring the new guys down to cargo. We are having a briefing down here. Listening in is optional, but personal presence is mandatory if you are new to service on this ship or under me."

He looked at Advar, Jeeho, and Nobeard discussing the modified Piranha. As much of a stickler as Fury was for older designs, sometimes newer really was better, and the design of this 'Gar' looked like an improvement.

He leaned against a wall, knowing the ship was not in motion yet. He didn't care how unprofessional he looked; as captain, he determined that, not anyone else.

Nobeard smiles when he sees the Gar.
He takes the gun from Jeeho when she hands it to him.
He holds it with the proper trigger discipline and checks the weight and feel.

"Thes is perfect. it is jist whit Ah needed. Thenk ye fur designin' thes Jeeho. Dae we hae a Black Widaw in stock?"

Translation: This is perfect. It is just what I needed. Thank you for designing this Jeeho. Do we have a Black Widow in Stock?