The Sentinel

Elizabeth Ackerman

Elizabeth couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her at Faltus' huge grin. She knew he would take great joy in being the one to finish off the volus. He was always up for getting his hands dirty. She began following after him, a pleasent expression on her face until he called her Lizzie. Her face dropped and became serious as she trotted up beside him. "Just remember my darling I know where you sleep. It would be a shame for you to wake up lacking a couple of your highly prized testicles." She smirked devlishly at him, enjoying the familiar back and forth they had. "When you're dealing with the volus, make sure to hurry back. We finally have a new job." She grinned at him, letting her excitement, despite the doubts she had, about the assignment leak through. A ping from her omni-tool momentarily captured her attention and her eyebrows knit together in frustration at the message. Jeron called her sweetheart. Dammit didn't they realize she was the only one who could hand out nicknames?! She despised them for herself. Well, at least the ship was ready.

With Faltus leading the way it didn't take long for them to reach the ship what with him literally tossing passerbys out of the way. She was almost ran over by Gizmo running errands or fixing something or, whatever it was the little accident waiting to happen did. "I see no explosions, mayhem or destruction. You're improving it seems sweetness." If he wasn't wearing a helmet she would have pinched his cheeks in a condescending way, as if he were a child, but instead gave him a pat on the head as she passed. "The volus is in my work room Faltus, inside the closet. If you would, take him outside and pick whatever area you wish to do the deed. I trust your judgement darling. Oh, and he might not give up much of a fight. He was quite far gone the last I saw of him. Terribly sorry about that, I do know how you enjoy their struggles." She could leave the execution up to Faltus, it was his job afterall and he was quite talented at striking fear into the masses.

As she walked down the hallways, the sound of cursing came to her ears and she raised a brow in confusion. Ah, it seems dear Jeron is having trouble somewhere. She followed the echoing of clanks and threats made on the machine's family if it didn't cooperate until she found him. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she stared at him seriously. "Don't think I won't slice a hole in your suit if you call me sweetheart one more time." Her eyes then looked at all the various pieces of what nots lying about him. "Having trouble, dear?"

"Argh! Go to hell you stupid piece of machinery, the bloody box said 'quick and easy installation'! If it wasn't lying than I'm not a Quarian! Gah, stupid suit stuck in the grooves... I will hunt down whoever made this shoddy piece of work and strangle them, then I'd strangle whoever wrote that damn lie on the box, oooh, and then the family-" A resulting clang and a loud exclamation of Aha! signified that he managed to jimmy the coupling right where it needed to be. It was about this time Jeron realized he wasn't alone in the engineering room. Elizabeth announced her own presence by threatening him.

"I bet you would, but one thing," Jeron said chuckling, "That would leave Gizmo to deal with all of this nonsense," he said, dinging a wrench against a pipe to prove his point, " and pilot the Sentinel by his self. He's a good kid, but you and I both know he'd have the ship scuttled within a week. Then Faltus would kill the poor man, and then you'd be ship-less and pilot-less," By this time Jeron had crawled from the belly of the beast and looked at Elizabeth, obviously smiling under the grease stained helmet, "So you're stuck with me honey, at least until you can find a pilot who knows more about this ship than I do, and chances are- you won't," he said standing up and looking and the surrounding mess.

"Was. I've got it all sorted out now. Only thing left is the filters and those go-" Jeron bent down and scooped up the large, but fine black mesh and inserted into a seemingly invisible slot in an apparent random nook of the wall, "Right here," He said, leaning against the nook. "The rest of this mess is useless. I'll get Gizmo to space it once we've left." This train of thought brought Jeron to the next topic.

"So, we're leaving this bit of paradise are we?" He said sarcastically. It wasn't a secret Jeron thought of Omega as a hive of villainy. As he spoke, he walked through the halls and gestured Elizibeth to come along. "So then that means a mission or an assignment. About time, I was getting tired of living it up. Sitting in one place was never my idea of a good time. I blame living on the Flotilla personally," He said, waving it off. The constant movement of the nomadic fleet had always been a comfort for Jeron. He could never relax when cooped up in one place for too long. Probably had something to do with his joining of a mercenary band.

Jeron found himself a railing and leaned up against it. "So then, what are the details? Who's the client, what's the job, and when do we leave?" He said while using bits of his 'cloak' to clean the grease and oil from his hands. "The client does have a name right? You know how I feel about the nameless ones," he said. Needless to say, he didn't like them.