<span style="color: Blue">That's the idea.</span>Vega nodded to Darion.<span style="color: Blue">A plan? Not really, no. I needed to meet you first.</span>He  answered Firas then silently listened as the Turian detailed their specific talents. As he mentioned Ashana's biotics Vega looked at her, eying her up and down with a thoughtful look.<br/><br/>He nodded slowly as Firas finished. There was a glimmer in his eye, then he smirked.<span style="color: Blue">Ye' know what? I think we should have a look at that toy now.</span>He nodded at Darion then stood up.<span style="color: Blue">Come on, all of you.</span>He said as he opened the door and flooded the office with the torrent of sounds from the facility.<br/><br/>He led them past a number of other testing installations then to a door that led down a flight of stairs into a room with a low ceiling that reminded Ashana of a bunker. It was very quiet compared to the area above. Various human engineers and weapon smiths were working at stations with an array of tools that were foreign to Ashana. Numerous weapons were lying around in various stages of disassembly. The engineers were focused on modules and pieces from the weapons - barrels, recoil dampeners and several other things Ashana didn't recognize. Vega approached one such engineer that had several black briefcases on his workbench. Vega reached out and picked one up.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">What do you see?</span>He asked, turning the briefcase around to show them. It was a metallic black and similar to briefcases Ashana had seen - slim, sharply angled with a handle on top. As Vega turned it, the light reflecting off it at different angles, she spotted various seams on its black surface. Ashana let one of the others answer.<br/><br/>Vega smirked. He placed one hand on the handle like anyone would, then lifted the briefcase and put his hand its side with his palm against it. The briefcase broke apart suddenly at the seams, pieces extending and opening suddenly. Ashana raised her brow as the weapon took the shape of the weapon Darion always carried, the Mattock.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Covert assault weapons.</span>He said and tossed the opened weapon to Darion. The weapon looked like a Mattock but numerous elements of it were clearly redesigned or new.<span style="color: Blue">We picked up a contract to develop something like this for high profit companies and their CEOs bodyguards on Illium. You can carry that into a room full of executives and other people that don't like seeing guns and they would probably never know it.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Or a party.</span>Ashana added.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Exactly.</span>Vega threw a wink at Ashana.<span style="color: Blue">This is a weapon that's nearly ready for full manufacturing. But for the immediate future, its a high powered rifle that the security staff during the party can carry without upsetting anyone.</span>He looked meaningfully at Firas and Darion.<span style="color: Blue">I'm afraid my profession is all about appearances.</span>Vega took the weapon back from Darion and squeezed the handle with two fingers. The weapon retracted back into a briefcase.<span style="color: Blue">As much as I would prefer to have everyone in armor with the largest weapons I can give them, the clients that will be attending the party don't need to be aware of what else is going on. They are here to socialize, not look over their shoulder. So, everyone on the detail will be carrying one of these.</span>He tapped the briefcase.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Cantenelli, Beruut, and Falkris all looked down at the screen that displayed the security camera feed from the med bay.<span style="color: Blue">He's moving rather quickly, doc.</span>Cantenelli observed, crossing his arms.<br/><br/><span style="color: YellowGreen">Yes, well, Quarian suits are very adept at administering pain killers to prevent an injury or loss of life from an movement impairing injury.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Red">Will the suit keep him in this condition even while the injury heals?</span>Falkris asked.<br/><br/><span style="color: YellowGreen">Each suit can vary depending on changes to its architecture or various modular upgrades -  but no. Eventually the anesthetics levels will decrease and the low level adrenaline injections will be stopped to prevent overdose.</span><br/><br/>On the monitor Sorv finished probing the computer and started fishing through the equipment in the lab.<span style="color: Blue">And that will take how long?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: YellowGreen">Hours.</span><br/><br/>They watched as Sorv began filling the bag with supplies. Beruut watched and nervously rubbed his fingers together as what supplies she had were being shoveled into a sack. When Sorv took a swing at the glass, Falkris growled and Cantenelli sighed. Beruut flinched and reached toward the screen as his medical implements were turned into a bludgeon.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Too long.</span>Cantenelli glowered at the screen.<span style="color: Blue">Shira, go stop our Quarian guest from breaking anything else.</span><br/><br/>The Quarian who had returned only minutes ago nodded and made for the elevator, lifting the modified M-27 Scimitar shotgun from the small of her back and cocking a thermal clip into the chamber.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Well, he's tenacious.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Red">We may have to restrain him.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">If it comes to that, I'd rather just kill him.</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Shirva'Va stepped out of the elevator and made a left turn, keeping her shotgun at the ready. She kept clear of the view from the window. As she approached the door, the lock turned green and the door opened. Keeping her distance, she pointed the shotgun at Sorv as a strike on the glass left another mark.<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">I would very much be alright with reopening that wound, <i>kinsmen</i>. Put it down.</span>She ordered.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Taseer listened to the report, glancing on occasion at her omni-tool. After the first few items though, she knew she didn't need to.<span style="color: Navy">It wasn't the pilot. Shit.</span>She sighed and dropped her arms from the overhead panel, placing on hand on her hip and using the other to wipe the seat from her forehead and chest.<span style="color: Navy">That was something that was supposed to fix while the ship was on Omega. Damnit. Mickey, the fucking brackets are still broken.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Yaaaay...</span>He muttered something unflattering about a Turian.<br/><br/><span style="color: Navy">Please inform the Captain that the patch job we managed on Illium is <i>still</i> inadequate. This damn ship need to be in dock for a week long overhaul.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Hey, we could join Eclipse again and get the repairs for free. I'll bet they'll even adequately guard it!</span><br/><br/>Taseer shook her head.<span style="color: Navy">I'll pull up the damage reports from Omega. Half of them are probably still accurate. Kala, I've got a mess in here that I think you'll be able to manage. Once those diagnostics are done, come back down here. </span>She said, pulling on her uniform to pull it back over her shoulders. and at least partially cover herself.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>