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Orton Din was a G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N. Operative onboard the CSV Aegis.

Appearance

Physical

He’s pretty much your average volus. He’s small, about three and a half feet, and not the most agile thing in the universe. Not having any real combat training, his movements and general presence is one of a slow, rather clumsy person.

Weapons

He has an M-23 Katana. He's not great with it, but if the target is not moving too fast and he can take his time to aim, he might just hit it.

Armor

His suit is not state of the art, but it has been taken good care of. It’s black, with golden decorations. He has the insignia of the Vol Protectorate engraved on it.

Biography

Before G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N.

Orth was born and raised on Irune, born as the second child into a middle-class family. Both of his parents worked at the Vol Protectorate, so his eventual career path was pretty much set in stone from the moment he was born.

Life in the government is a stable and respectable position, so he was very glad to have been accepted right after graduation. His career wasn't a roaring star on the sky of global politics, but he was doing all right for his age. He even started looking around for a potential mate to enter a marital agreement with. Life was good. As most people working in the Volus government, his job involved working on different planetary and interplanetary trade deals. Through these, he has indirectly dealt with aliens before, but he hasn’t been off planet yet, and has lived a quiet (if a bit boring) life. Because of his relatively secluded lifestyle, most of his knowledge about alien races came through the filter of other Volus. These accounts, of course, were filtered through the eyes of a species that feels that their contributions are downplayed. Through these eyes, every other race is out to get the Volus, and the Council play right into their hands. Orth, as all of his kinsmen, was disillusioned with interstellar politics, and was glad that he would spend all his life on Irune.

That is, until the G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N. initiative. When he first heard about it, he thought it would be a good stepping stone for him, a way to diversify his CV, to show that he does indeed care about the Universe at large. Most interspecies organizations don't accept Volus in front-line roles, trusting them instead to handle finances. Knowing this, Orth asked for a transfer to the committee. What he didn’t know was that this committe was not one of the usual initiatives of the Council, and that they would ask for active participants from all races involved. He was terrified when he found out that the Protectorate would send a few Volus to actually go into space. He was even more terrified when he realized that he was the only one on the committee under 50. All of his colleagues being older (and more connected) than him, Orth was more or less volunteered for the job. He could have, of course, disputed it, and tried to use what little connections his family had, but at the end of the day, that might not have been enough, and it would have damaged (if not destroyed) both his and his family's careers. So, he signed the form, and a few days later got the enlisting information, as well as a government-issued environmental suit.

Not having any sort of military training beforehand, Orth is woefully unprepared for any kind of combat. Heeding the advice of his friends and family, he upgraded his omnitool to a military-grade one that can Cloak its user and bought a combat pistol from a Turian military equipment shop. Supposedly the pistol is good, but he wouldn't know. The one time he tried to shoot his were shaking so bad he dropped the thing; ever since then, the weapon has been tucked away in his locker. The only thing he brought from home is Gidget, his old drone. During his rebel years, he took some coding classes on the Extranet (he wanted to differentiate himself from the rest of his family), and the final project involved the making of a drone. Maybe the suspicious lack of Volus hackers in popular culture should have been enough of a warning sign, but Orth tried all the same. After finishing the class, however, he realized that he will never be a techie. Nevertheless, he managed to pass, and has kept the drone as a memento of his wilder years. Gidget is not a combat drone – it is basically a glorified calculator and virtual assistant. It is bright green, with a vaguely globe-like form (holo-geometrics is hard to code).

With G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N.

Orton was assigned to the CSV Aegis, and is currently serving as the Main Communications Officer.

Aftermath

Tuchanka, Shroud Facility Ruins

December 31st, 2185

2100

It was over. They have won. The enemy TITAN lay in ruins, along with the vorcha piloting it. Over the comms he could hear the news: the Insurrection was no more. They really have won. Well, except for the krogan not joining them, but hey - they're krogan. It was foolish to expect them to cooperate.

As opposed to the rest of the galaxy, he was not well. In fact, Orth was very, very far away from well. He was sitting by the ruins of the Shroud facility, alone, crying. He had never been in a life or death situation before, and even coming out of one alive was too much for him to handle. So he cried. He wanted to go to a warm place, to a place where nobody was shooting at him, to a place where nobody would be barking orders at him. Yet, he was stuck with this wretched organization, for better or worse. So he cried. Then threw up. For those wondering, throwing up inside an enviro-suit is, if possible, even less pleasant than throwing up regularly. The suit was monitoring his vitals, of course, so it knew he was about to vomit a couple of seconds earlier than he himself did. So it jammed a tube into his mouth, which naturally made everything so much worse.

If anybody cared to look in his direction, they would see a tiny metal ball, hunched over itself, sobbing and occasionally grunting. 

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth's bunk

January 17th, 2186

A little over two weeks after the conclusion of the whole drama over Tuchanka, the galaxy seemed to be at peace. If Orth had been a little more well versed in galactic politics, he would have recognized this period as the calm before the storm - alas, he was not. Nevertheless (or to be more precise, as a result) he was quite happy with himself, considering the circumstances. Being part of the crew of the TITAN during the final battle has garnered some recognition within the crew of the Aegis. He was no longer Orth, the volleyball diversity hire - he was Orton Din, Communications Officer, part of the TITAN crew.

His duties as comm officer have also been more lax - with no major conflict, most of the messages were just inter-ship daily reports. He still had nightmares about Tuchanka, but he started seeing a therapist over the extranet once a week, and that helped somewhat. She was originally from Irune, and she had a very soothing voice. She wasn't a member of the Protectorate; she lived on the Citadel. She had been appointed to him by the Council. Orth was wary of an independent therapist, but under the conditions of his contract with GUARDIAN, her sessions were free; so he ultimately agreed.

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth's bunk

February 4th, 2186

The fifteen minutes of fame of the TITAN crew started to fade away, and with that, Orth's standing with his co-workers started to return to normal. As a result, he got more and more closed off, more and more hostile towards anybody who tried to approach him. To combat the loneliness, he requested that his therapy sessions be bumped up to twice a week.

His therapist, however, said that in order to find a long-term solution, he had to try and integrate to the community physically surrounding him. Instead of having another session, she made him sign up for an online course on inter-species acceptance. Orth begrudgingly agreed. The course itself was, for the most part, Council propaganda about how everybody should just get along and live peacefully, but, at the end of the day, he did find parts of it to be somewhat agreeable. As a result, he started actively trying to be nicer to his crewmates. By the end of the six week course, he was seeing some mild improvement. The people on the bridge actually greeted him when they met in the morning. Every now and then, they invited him to their table during lunch break. And as much as he hated to admit it, having friends (well, co-workers he didn't actively hate) was rather nice. Overall, his life was improving.

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth's bunk

March 23rd, 2186

The nightmares didn't stop. They weren't as frequent, but they were still there. His therapist suggested that working through his fears might only be possible if he tried facing them in a safe, controllable environment. Orth thought this was complete and utter nonsense. The issue was dropped.

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth's bunk

April 4th, 2186

The nightmares were getting more and more frequent. It was always the same: he was controlling the TITAN, facing Ralek, back on Tuchanka. There was a huge gun next to the mech. He picked it up, but he didn't know how to shoot it. Ralek started laughing, and shot him. Then he woke up. His therapist - again - suggested the whole 'facing one's fears' plan. Orth had to admit that the 'ignoring one's fears' plan quite obviously wasn't working, so maybe it was time to try something new.

So, he went down to the training simulator on the Aegis, and loaded up a training scenario called ND_COMBAT_SCENARIO_CTRAINING_101. It was supposed to be a basic, no-damage combat scenario, designed to teach basic weapon handling. The targets were slowly moving around, shooting at him, but the shots were only flashes of light. He didn't feel anything - maybe shame over the hitcount on his HUD. He did his best to duck and run and take cover and even shoot his holographic gun a few times - but in the end, he set an all-time record of lowest score and went home feeling defeated.

But he slept better.

So, the next day, he went back.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Eventually, he requested formal weapons training on the CSV Muramasa. The instructor laughed nervously, thinking that this was some kind of weird volus joke, but Orth insisted. He was transported to the Muramasa and pointed towards one of the training rooms. Once there, a very gruff looking turian gave him an M-8 Avenger. It was the first time Orth held a gun with the intention of actually shooting it. A target dummy started slowly moving around the room, zapping him every few meters. He grunted, he cursed, and eventually, he got angry. He didn't really aim - he just pointed the gun in the vague direction of the dummy and shot. 

The trainer angrily notified him that any damage to the hull of the ship would come out of his next paycheck. He also gave him a shotgun - an M-23 Katana. The gun was somewhat smaller than the Avenger, so he had a better grip on it. The training started again. The flow was the same: zap, zap, grunt, shoot. This time, however, pointing the gun in the general direction of the target dummy actually worked. 

So it happened that on April 15th, 2186, Orton Din, for the first time in his life, fired a gun and managed to hit the thing he wanted to hit.

He hadn't slept like that in ages.

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth's bunk,

April 25th, 2186

SUBJECT: The Role of the Vol Protectorate in the coming conflict

TO: me (part of offIrune)

FROM: contact@depaltr.vpr

To all vol-clan living outside Irune and Vol Space,

The Vol Protectorate hereby informs you of the announcement that it does not wish to partake in the growing conflict between the Citadel and the newly formed Terminus Confederacy. Although our client contract with the Turian Hierarchy is clear on this point, we feel that a re-negotiation is in order. Until such a summit of the two races can be arranged, all vol-clan living outside Vol Space (with special regard to those who are actively engaged with an official Citadel party) are requested to immediately return to Irune for re-assignment.

Failure to comply will mean legal action, with the possibility of the termination of your work contract.

We have to look out for ourselves,

Romto Ven

President of Alien Trades

Department of Alien Trades

--

Orth was staring at his omnitool. Here it was. A couple of months ago, he would have jumped at the opportunity. Now, however.. He wasn't sure. He started to feel at home. He had gotten used to the hum of the engines. He had even started to get in the habit of saluting people. He liked being called 'communications officer.' 

He didn't want to go.

--

SUBJECT: Re: The Role of the Vol Protectorate in the coming conflict

TO: contact@depaltr.vpr

FROM: me

To whom it may concern,

Respectfully, I think that the Protectorate is wrong in staying neutral in this conflict. Actively helping the Citadel might mean greater recognition in the future, maybe even a Council-seat consideration.

I would like to formally request, if at all possible, to remain at my currently assigned role within G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N., serving as the Communications Officer of the CSV Aegis.

Yours respectfully,

Orton Din,

(now) Communications Officer of the CSV Aegis

(prev.) Committee of Professional World-wide and Interstellar Commercial Communications and Messaging over the Intra- Inter- and Extranet

--

SUBJECT: Re: The Role of the Vol Protectorate in the coming conflict

TO: me

FROM: tarlaf@depaltr.vpr

Dear Orton Din,

After some consideration, we regret to inform you that your request has been denied. The Galactic United Alliance to Resist, Defend, Intercept, Attack and Negotiate (commonly known as G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N.) is a paramilitary organization directly partaking in the growing conflict. The Vol Protectorate, as stated before, would like to remain neutral in said conflict - as such, having one of our own within the organization is absolutely out of the question. 

We would like to remind you that while your opinion is much appreciated, you have no authority over the political standings and decisions of the Protectorate.

You are once again officially requested to immediately return to your previous role within Protectorate.

Yours respectfully,

Tarla Fem

Committee of Monitoring of the Movements and Implications of Vol-clan Outside Irune and Vol Space

Department of Alien Trades

--

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth’s bunk

April 26th, 2186

Orth's hands were shaking as he typed. He couldn't decide if he was being brave, stubborn or stupid, but he dared not stop to think about it.

--

SUBJECT: Re: The Role of the Vol Protectorate in the coming conflict

TO: tarlaf@depaltr.vpr

CC: aemerson@guardian.cc

FROM: me

Dear Tarla Fem,

Thank you for the quick response.

I am, naturally, quite saddened by the Protectorate's decision to not grant me my request. My opinion on the matter is not changed, however. As such, I am hereby formally resigning from the Vol Protectorate.

Yours respectfully,

Orton Din

Communications Officer of the CSV Aegis

G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N.

--

~~

CSV Aegis, Orth’s bunk

April 28th, 2186

SUBJECT: Termination of your contract

TO: me

CC: aemerson@guardian.cc

FROM: volmert@depaltr.vpr
 

Dear Orton Din,

Each day that one of our own leaves the Protectorate is a dark day. It is with regret that we inform you of the official termination of your contract with our organization. 

As per the conditions of said contract, all your physical and financial assets left on Irune will be transferred to the Protectorate. You can find a detailed list of these assets attached.

Of particular importance is the Stiletto-II combat pistol, manufactured by the Haliat Armory, that you have purchased just before leaving Irune. As you have bought this pistol from your salary from the Protectorate, and on the homeworld of the vol-clan no less, it might be seen as an act of aggression. As such, the Protectorate invokes article 42, subsections 345.c and 345.d of your contract regarding the nature of purchases bought with direct or indirect Protectorate funds; in other words, we request that you send the weapon back, as it is now officially the property of the Vol Protectorate.

Another item of note is your KM-477 standard issue environmental suit, manufactured by the Elkoss Combine, in the year 2173. As you know, this was supplied to you by the Protectorate as to help you better integrate into galactic society. Because of the termination of your contract, we hereby revoke your right to use it and ask for its immediate return. As we recognize that living without an environmental suit can be problematic, we are happy to give you a one month grace period during which you can acquire a new one.

Failure to comply will result in legal charges, both within the Vol and Council Space, with the possibility of imprisonment.

Best of luck on your future endeavours,

Romto Ven

President of Alien Trades

Department of Alien Trades


--

SUBJECT: New environmental suit requisition form

TO: aemerson@guardian.cc, accounting@guardian.cc 

FROM: me

I, Orton Din, WOULD LIKE TO PLACE A REQUISITION REQUEST FOR THE FOLLOWING ITEM(S):

- KM-499 Environmental Suit, size M MANUFACTURED BY Elkoss Combine

- M-23 Katana Shotgun MANUFACTURED BY Ariake Technologies

x IN THE EVENT OF G.U.A.R.D.I.A.N. NOT FINDING THESE REQUESTS REASONABLE OR NECESSARY, I WANT TO BUY THEM WITH A FINANCIAL PLAN (PLEASE ATTACH PLAN IF APPLICABLE)

NAME OF OPERATIVE (OMNITOOL ID NECESSARY)

Orton Din, OMN-GRD-145793258.8410285.RTT

--

Personality

Orton Din is not happy to be here. He is against combat, not so much because of his beliefs, but because he is terrible at it. Though not openly hostile, he is nevertheless distrustful of aliens, and is slightly concerned that the initiative is led by a human, who can (and probably will) use this opportunity to strengthen the Alliance somehow.

The events of 2185 have had a great impact on Orth's life and mentality. He has worked closely with aliens (humans, mostly), has seen both the good and the bad that the inhabitants of the galaxy can offer. His experiences on Tuchanka were particularly life changing - and, after a few months of therapy and inter-species acceptance courses, Orth has very much mellowed out. He still doesn't quite get aliens, but he now realizes that for better or worse, he's stuck with them - so he might as well try and get along.

Trivia