The Main Battery was always quiet, so isolated from the rest of the ship. The room never had great lighting, bathing in a mix of orange and red while a slow and repetitive hum of the Acherons ship batteries filled the air to quell any true silence from the room. To Firas, it was a place of serenity, a dull hum to some but a gentle song to him. He found peace here in the Main battery, ironic to find such a feeling from a creation that was built solely to destroy.<br/><br/>Firas had found himself lazily leaning against the wall, facing the weapon. Idlely, he browsed over the wonderful features of the weapon with one leg folded up with a single, folded arm resting at its summit with the other foot tucked comfortably between his ankle and thigh. The Turian had spent most of his free time sitting in what casual clothes he could find on the Acheron, typical brown wool clothing just fitting for his size, but for once he felt relieved to finally be out of his armour. It was comforting knowing that these people needed him on the ground, it was because of this reason why he could relax, as there was very little reason for them to kill him right now because of it. Who knew when the next time Firas would be able to take his armour off again, however, there was always that need to wear it. It had saved his life against the YMIR heavy mech which felt like an event that happened many years ago now, even a brief moment of reminiscence revived a brief pain in his chest. Since that time, his armour had offered almost little to none protection. He had relied solely on his shields since that day, and Firas just felt lucky to be alive right now. "<span style="color: blue">That reminds me.. I should go by the armoury and patch my armour up</span>". It was tedious to think that he would have to rely on his armour still. If he had the chance, he'd replace it in an instant.<br/><br/>Fatigue had plagued the man for a while, alot had happened ever since he fell into that Volus' trap back on Omega. He never thought from that moment that he'd be where he was now, sitting on a pirate vessal led by a human who had convinced them all here by gunpoint. Cantenelli was a smooth talker, but thinking back on how he had -persuaded- them onto this ship, Firas felt like it was only a matter of time before the man finally decided to pull the trigger.  The only honest sight he had witnessed from his crew came from Falkris.  Unlike the others, the Turian did not wear a mask, and it was the face that Firas could only consider Cantenelli's true identity. He thought back on when they found the Acheron and when they had discovered what they had thought was the captains room, brimming with trophies. He was Ruthless and a Glory Hog in Firas' eyes, but all in all, it didn't matter much. Firas was caught in a vortex that he suspected would eventually consume him, and he cared little for it now.<br/><br/>The Turian shifted on his spot and leaned his head back against the cold surface, his eyes becoming half lidded before the red panel on the door flickered to a welcoming green, vanishing to allow the door to open. With a curious glance, Firas turned his head to witness a dark shadow enter the room. The shadow gave very little notice to him, instead approaching the nearby console and carrying on with its work.<br/><br/>The sight of the working figure only reminded him of Sorv, which was a disturbing thought for Firas, but also a justifying one. He had come to rely on the Quarian, and in a situation that he had found himself in now, a trustworthy companion is certainly worth its weight in gold. The Turian had not considered going to the med bay to see how he was doing, it was probably fear for Sorv, that the Quarian would not survive the ordeal. Sorv was probably the -only- person he could truely trust, although he could only grudgingly accept that he felt the same way about Ashana too.<br/><br/>His Mandibles flexed at the thought of Ashana, a slight grumble pouring from his lipless mouth which aroused the attention from the mystery guest for but a second. Just that brief glance reminded Firas of the dangerous bond of trust he had agreed too with the human Pirate. Firas never suspected that he would ever find an alliance as flimsy as his and Ashana's until he met Cantenelli, the thought that Ashana was now the only one left from their warehouse confrontation made him weary. She had earnt his trust on the battlefield, but she was a mysterious woman, very hard to read and it was one of the many reasons why he could never truely trust her as much as he did Sorv. They had been through alot, disagreed alot too. Thinking back, he began to chuckle at some of the situations they used to argue about. In that sense, he was glad to have Ashana with him but he also knew he'd regret it the moment she started talking and making demands again.<br/><br/>It didn't take long for the Turian to soon find himself alone in the Main battery room once again, the doors closing behind the figure as it continues on with its duties. The Turians eyes remained closed however, and it didn't take long for that darkness to gradually creep on him and to finally succumb to the pleasurable slumber he had sought for so long.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>The gentle humming of the main batteries equipment greeted him as he roused himself from what sleep he could manage, squinting his eyes to focus on his surroundings and  taking in the static room that could have fooled him that no time had passed at all. There was no telling how long he had slept, but even simple movements felt stiff and rusted as he forced himself to his feet. Firas cranked his limbs, stretching in a fashion in an attempt to loosen the muscles. The floor didn't really make for a good bed but one takes comfort whereever you can find it. A thought dawned on him that this may be the last time he'd manage to sleep in a long while yet, and Firas was thankful for it. He straightened up before leaving and was greeted by a bright light. His eyes flared up before absorbing the extra light and the sound of people swam over him.<br/><br/>Firas wasted no time however, making a move towards the Armoury. It was strange to see other people walking the corridors of the Acheron, since being used to having Sorv and Ashana around most of the time. He was yet to meet the new two humans that had joined Cantenellis force also, one coming along with Sorv at least. A human of all things. The dreaded feeling that he'd never really escape being surrounded by humans, each one seemed able to just pull a gun out and put a well aimed shot between his eyes. These thoughts did enough to occupy him as he made his way to the armoury, grudgingly dragging himself towards the Elevator.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>The red holoscreen flickered to a welcoming green as the doors flung open to surprise Firas with the plentiful amounts of gear and ammo that littered the tables and walls, his armour idlely sat on one large metallic table that was centered in the middle, most of it had already been disassembled from earlier. It was nice that this room had plenty of light, with easy access to materials when needed just a step or two away. This Cantenelli had all the perks when it came to warfare and repair, and it was hard not to be envious of him.<br/><br/>The turian murmured quietly to himself as he positioned himself in front of the table, staring down at all the contents that littered the surface. Tools were dragged to the side followed by pieces of gear that were pushed lazily to one side. His prized Revenent Assault Rifle was the only item there that was neatly placed without another item within a close proximity to it. It was a trophy and a well kept possession now, earnt from the warehouse back on Omega. The fact that he sported such a weapon now was perhaps one of the greatest feelings he could conjure from all this. If whatever plan Cantenelli comes up with screwed up, he was pretty sure he could fix it with the firepower that weapon held.<br/><br/>With a shake of his head, Firas tore his gaze away from the weapon and fell silent as he observed the pieces that covered the surface of the table, but he didn't flinch to the upcoming chore, infact, this was once another occassion he could lose himself to his thoughts. The man had lost count to how many times he had had to repair his own gear.<br/><span style="color: blue">"Triple canopy of protection they say.. they should add cushions to my ass the next time I fly.."</span>Firas grumbled as he pressed a hand firmly against the large indent where the YMIR's weapon had struck him. One could be happy that he didn't have to suffer a case of the -squish skin-, a medigel layer that normally poured into the exposed hole of the armour on peneration, normally used to deny toxic atomspheres to remain adaptable, but used as a typical failsafe healing mechanism. He wasn't fond of it still regardless.<br/>Reaching for the nearest tool, he began to peel away the burnt layer of his armour. There was no denying that the money was well spent, but mangled armour was not the greatest armour to take back into a potential battlefield. Firas was sure that the blastheat of the shot could have potentially burnt out any power cell emitters, all in which could reduce the emittant deflection strength of the shields. With his armour wired up, who was to say if a sensor or emitter would finally become non responsive. Firas was lucky enough that the armour still functioned as it did, and the armour certainly deserved a good clean and rinse as much as he did too.<br/><br/>In silence, the turian continued his work.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/><span style="color: deepskyblue">Attention. We will be arriving at Bekenstein in two hours</span>. A voice flooded the air as Firas added the final pieces to his armour. It wasn't a work of art, but it would have to do. The indent in his armour had finally been fixed, having removed the entire piece and replacing it with what materials he could find. Lightweight composite ceramic plates were a perfect pick on his part, although each piece was a different size, he had managed to shape and meld it together to create a rough but decent look to what he considered his -new- armour. There was no time to paint so it seemed, a mixed but solid mix of both dark red and dull grey that was very apparent to any that paid even the slightest bit of attention to him.<span style="color: blue"> "it'll have to do..."</span><br/><br/>Wasting no time, he finally began to put on every piece of armour. He wasn't rushing for the sake of the two hour time limit, but moreso because of pure curiousity and his eagerness to see if the piece would fit. His armour flickered to life as each piece wrapped around his figure, each light that beamed a healthy white sparked a twitch from his mandibles in an attempt at a pleasing smile.<br/>As the final piece of armour clamped around his chest, he took a deep breath as he felt the systems come online as the inner layers of the armour closed in and pressed itself comfortably against his plated skin. It was a relief to feel that the suit was working this time, as it always did when you are about to put your life on the line once more. It felt good to have finally had time to do this. "I am finally back at full potential... and more" his gaze fell upon the Revenent, and he didn't hold back, reaching out and cradling it in his arms as it sprang to life. It unfolded in an eager manner and Firas rolled his shoulders back in turn, relaxing in such a pose to such a degree that the weapon began to unfold once more, instinctively, the man placed the gun on the mag-lock on his back. He felt ready.<br/><br/>In that instant, he left the armoury, making no effort to clean up his mess. He was expected to meet Cantenelli, and he intended to come back and clean up after the mission.<span style="color: blue">"Not the best reason to come back..."</span>he uttered to himself, emitting a quiet chuckle as the doors closed behind him.<br/><br/>Exiting the armoury, the Turian marched along with whatever crew he found up to the CIC, locking a gaze on Falkis and Cantenelli on his approach. Ashana was already there with whatever bodies he had noticed before, along with the human that had crashed with Sorv.  The female human certainly didn't look ready for this on first glance, although she was recruited the same way that he was by Cantenelli, by gunpoint, and she didn't have a gun on her. It was regrettable not seeing Sorv with them. Could he trust the new humans in his stead?<br/><br/>Firas listened to the mans words, his mandibles twitching with a tedious flare, but he was keen to get this job over and done with. Working for contractors who wanted a dead body on Omega was easy enough, dealing with an arms manufacturer who dealt with some pretty heavy military groups was another.<br/><span style="color: blue">"Just point us in the right direction, and we'll deal with it. If you want a diplomat, speak to Ashana. Goddess forbid can I ever get a word in edgeways anyway, and Vega sounds like a male. Just send her in with her top off and we will pretty much get what we want. If it goes bad, just make sure I have enough ammo." </span>The man shrugs, scratching the back of his neck as he idlely looks over the gathered crew, although his eyes seem to linger more on Kala and Darion moreso. A visual evaluation on his part. Can he really put his life in their hands?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>